Leslie Perks and the Lustratio's Magic
by all4jesus84
Summary: Leslie's 4th year at Hogwarts is filled with changes, especially emotionally. Leslie has to face the challenge of growing up, while facing the many dangers that are out in the wizarding world, including the very near return of Lord Voldemort.
1. Growing Up

"Harry, stop it! You're not supposed to open your presents until _we_ say it's time! And it's not!" Leslie Perks scolded one of her best friends on a blazing hot day at the end of July. Harry Potter turned away from the gifts table, and pouted at Leslie.

"Oh come _on_ Leslie. You're killing me here! You can't put out a table full of gifts and expect me to stay away. Like _you'd_ do any better!" He smirked. Leslie glared at him as she grabbed his arm, dragging him back to the small blanket set up under the willow tree in the Granger's backyard. It was the only shade their backyard offered. Leslie had to hit Harry a few times when his eyes lingered back toward the decorated table.

"I told you, Harry. We've got to wait for everyone to get here. Ron and Hermione are still inside finishing your cake, and _then_ you can open your presents. But I promised Hermione I wouldn't let you anywhere near your gifts until we were all together. You only turn 14 once." Leslie said. Harry snorted.

"Yeah, I'd like to see _your_ reaction when I try and pull that line on you in a month's time when _you_ turn 14. Like you'd accept that as any excuse to wait for presents." He laughed. Leslie batted her eyelashes.

"Who, me?" She asked, blinking. Harry rolled his eyes with a groan as Leslie laughed. Harry laid back on the blanket as he stared up at the sky. Leslie, hesitating for a moment, followed his lead, making sure there was still enough space between them. She didn't want it to get...weird.

"By the way, Leslie. Thanks." Harry said suddenly. Leslie looked over.

"What for?" She wanted to know.

"For throwing me this birthday party. You and Hermione. I've never had one before." Harry said. Leslie looked over at him.

"Never? What about-" She didn't even have to finish. It was no secret that his aunt and uncle whom he was living with were horrible people. Of course they wouldn't throw him a birthday party. They had done everything they could to keep Harry from being happy, which included locking him up before their second year, and refusing to allow him back to Hogwarts, the magical school the four friends attended. Luckily, Leslie got her first broomstick that year for her birthday, and was able to use it on a rescue mission for Harry. Still, the Dursleys' ill treatment of Harry intensified every year, but this year, Harry had gotten lucky. Harry was spending the summer at Ron's house, so getting him over for a birthday party had been a piece of cake.

"Well, you're welcome Harry." Leslie finally said with a smile. "I'm just glad you could come."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it for the world!" Harry grinned from ear to ear. "Any place where I get presents is where I want to be!" Leslie playfully punched him as Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley finally came out of the house, Hermione holding a large chocolate cake, with 14 candles on top. Harry stared at Leslie impatiently.

"The cake's here, so _now_ can we open presents?" He asked, jumping up to his feet. Leslie rolled her eyes as she joined him.

"Honestly Harry, if I didn't know any better, I'd think we were celebrating your _4__th_ birthday, not your 14th." She still nodded. "But yes, I promised you you could open them once Hermione and Ron came out, so I suppose we best let you at them." Leslie led the way to the gift table as Hermione set the cake down on the table. She stared at Leslie as Harry started piling the gifts into Ron's arms to carry back to their blanket. Leslie shrugged.

"I tried to hold him back, Hermione, but he's a man with a mission. I'm lucky I got him to wait this long." She tried defending herself as she turned to see Ron struggling with Harry's presents. Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Boys." She muttered under her breath.

* * *

Harry spent the next four minutes ripping open his gifts, while Ron, Hermione and Leslie sat around him, watching eagerly. Leslie had become a huge fan of birthdays and Christmases ever since she first found out she was a witch. She would never grow tired of all the magical things money could buy.

Harry opened his present from Hermione first. It was in the shape of a rectangle, so Harry immediately figured it was a book and moaned. Leslie gave him a look of reassurance. She knew it wasn't a book, she was with Hermione when she bought it in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago. With the go-ahead from Leslie, Harry tore open Hermione's gift and found a broomstick polishing kit. Harry was thrilled.

"Thanks Hermione. It's about time too. My Nimbus is starting to look rather dull. After I shine it up, it'll look brand new." He lowered his voice. "And thanks for not buying me a book this year either." Hermione muttered something under her breath. Leslie was sure she heard "uncultured" in there somewhere.

Next, Harry opened Ron's gift, and sure enough, Harry found Pumpkin Patsies. Leslie smiled to herself. Ron's family wasn't exactly rich, but Ron always saved up the bits of change he could find to buy his friends gifts for birthdays and Christmases. Harry thanked Ron, and opened them up to begin eating them, sharing them around. Leslie took one bite and decided she didn't like them.

Harry opened his gift from Mrs. Weasley, which was a knit scarf in the Gryffindor colors, and his gift from the Weasley twins, which was a pair of Extendable Ears. "Good for eavesdropping on unwanted conversations" their card read. Fred and George were in the recent business of creating prank items for a joke shop they wanted to open one day.

Leslie's gift came last, and Harry ripped it open with the most anticipation. Leslie nearly blushed.

Harry pulled out a picture frame that held a picture of Harry and Leslie in their first year at Hogwarts. The two were flying on Harry's new broomstick. First years weren't allowed to fly broomsticks, and Harry was only allowed because he was playing Quidditch, but Harry broke the rules a few times, and allowed Leslie up on the broomstick a few times. But the picture captured one of the happiest moments of Leslie's life. Her first time on a broomstick, behind Harry, holding on while he took her up high above the clouds. Harry smiled.

"Wow, I remember that." He paused. "It seems so long ago, doesn't it?" Leslie smiled.

"It does, but I'll never forget that day. Harry, you were always such a good teacher." She admitted. Harry grinned.

"And now you're on the Quidditch team, I might add." He gloated jokingly. Leslie laughed.

"Don't let it get to your head or anything." She said. Harry smiled.

"Honestly though, with all the practice we'll get in this summer, there's no _way_ we won't win the Quidditch Cup. Again!" He turned to his presents and began to take an inventory. Leslie sighed, staring down at the photo Harry had placed down gently. She watched as the moving photograph showed fear in Leslie's eyes, as she eyed the ground worriedly. Leslie shook her head. Harry was right, it was a long time ago now, and things had changed so much. She trusted Harry with her life now, not like back then when she was just starting to know him. Her relationship with Harry was so much different now. Things felt so...different around him now, ever since the end of the school year. Leslie couldn't quite place her finger on it; perhaps they were just growing up. After all, they weren't 11 anymore. Harry had just turned 14, and Leslie's birthday was just around the corner. _Maybe things are different because of what happened on the Isle of the Black Fog._ She shuddered at the thought. Remembering that night was terrifying. The night Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew, Deatheaters, had lured Leslie to the Isle to use her as bait to get Harry Potter as a welcoming gift for Voldemort. That was the night that, even after all the horrible fighting Leslie and Harry had been through, Harry still came to rescue her. He readily meant to sacrifice his own life just to stop Bellatrix from using the Cruciatus Curse on Leslie. That was the only reason she had stopped. Leslie _still_ had nightmares about that Curse, and about Bellatrix Lestrange. She _still_ felt the pain in her joints when she thought about it.

Despite the nightmares, and the fears that had come forth from that whole experience, Leslie guessed that was the turning point for hers and Harry's relationship. That was when they stopped fighting. That was when Leslie realized how much she cared about Harry. That was when Leslie knew how much Harry cared about her. Their relationship was growing, and even though Leslie knew it was changing, she knew they would never be apart again.

Despite the positive changes that were happening Leslie's relationship with Harry, those weren't the _only_ changes that were happening in her life. So many things had changed in the last few months since school let out. Things she couldn't necessarily explain or make sense of, but she couldn't help her feelings either.

Ever since she had successfully faced her Boggart, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about her parents. It had been strange enough seeing them emerge from that wardrobe at the beginning of the year, telling her that all of this wasn't meant to be, and that she was going to lose it all. Even though she knew her parents were dead, and a Boggart was simply a manifestation of one's greatest fear, she hadn't been able to face it until her last day of school. Professor Lupin had told her it was reasonable for her to be afraid, because her fear went deeper than most students her age. It would make sense that her fears of losing everything she had gained since coming to Hogwarts would be manifested in her parents. They had been against magic from before Leslie was even born. That was why Leslie never knew about her magical roots until she received her letter from Hogwarts, and run away from the home where she had never once known the meaning of what it was to have somebody love her. She faced her Boggart knowing that she had people who cared about her, and nobody could take it away from her. They were dead, they no longer had a hold on her.

But ever since she had faced the Boggart, her parents _had_ had a hold on her. But it wasn't fear that gripped her. It was the negative memories that clung to her, haunted her, hurt her. It was the memories of her past that she became madly obsessed about. Questions plagued her day and night about the unfairness of her childhood. Why hadn't she grown up with parents who loved her? Why did her mum and dad ignore her all the time? Yell at her all the time? Leave her alone all the time? Say horrible things about her, to her? After nearly fourteen years of dealing with the fact that she hadn't had decent parents, it was beginning to catch up to her. She was surrounded by constant reminders, she always had been, but she was just beginning to notice them now. It wasn't fair. Why did Ron and Hermione have decent parents who loved them, cared for them, would do _anything_ for them? Even Harry had had decent parents, even though they were dead as well. They had given their lives to save Harry's. Leslie's parents would never do that. It wasn't right. Leslie wished she could just forget about it, pretend like she didn't care, but living at the Grangers was especially excruciating. Mr. and Mrs. Granger saw Hermione as the apple of their eye, their little girl, their "bright star," they called her. Living with them did not make it any easier. Daily reminders made it worse for Leslie. She was tired of the horrible reminders in her dreams as well. She had enough reminders during the day, she didn't need to dream about her past either.

"Thanks for all my presents, guys. They're brilliant!" Harry beamed, as he finished off the last of his Pumpkin Patsies. Leslie looked up, realizing she had drifted off in her thoughts, once again. It wasn't odd for her to go off on those trains of thoughts about her parents again, about her past. She wished there was a magical spell she could use to wipe her memory clean. This pain was too much to worry about. _It'll be okay once I'm back at school. There won't be any reminders there. Nobody's parents are around. I won't have to think about it. _Leslie tried to tell herself.

"Hermione, can you bring everyone in now to wash up? It's time for dinner!" Mrs. Granger called from the backdoor.

"Alright, mum, we'll be right there." Hermione called back, as Ron helped Harry collect the last of his gifts.

"But what about the cake?" Harry moped. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh for goodness sake, Harry, we'll have it _after_ dinner." She scolded, as she picked up the picnic blanket, and folded it carefully. Leslie laughed to herself. Harry was just as impatient as she was sometimes.

* * *

Leslie walked out of the downstairs washroom, drying her hands on her jeans as she joined Harry at the dining room table. She sat next to him, smiling as she did. He looked very excited, glancing at all the home cooked food in front of him. Leslie knew Harry could never get sick of good meals, even after staying at Ron's where Mrs. Weasley's goal was to fatten Harry up. The Dursleys didn't exactly nourish Harry properly.

"It looks great, Mrs. Granger." Harry said politely. Mrs. Granger patted him on the head, and thanked him. Mrs. Granger looked to Leslie with a smile. Leslie looked away.

That was the other thing. Thinking about the unfairness of her past made it so she couldn't even _talk_ to the Grangers anymore without it digging deeper into the wound that was already there. She had become so withdrawn lately, spending most of her time outside, or up in the room she shared with Hermione. She gave so many excuses, ranging from wanting to start some of the readings for the year, to claiming she needed to spend time outside because her grandmother claimed she was becoming too pale. Lies, they were all lies, but they kept her away from Mr. and Mrs. Grangers. Leslie really only had to deal with them at meal times, because as hard as Leslie tried, there was no excuse that Mrs. Granger would accept for missing meals.

"Alright, dig in everyone." Mrs. Granger announced as she took a seat next to Leslie. Leslie felt her entire body tense. She would eat fast, and excuse herself promptly. She knew it was rude, she knew the Grangers were probably cluing in to Leslie's avoidant behaviour, but Leslie was so adamant about protecting herself from painful feelings, she didn't really care.

Everybody dished up their plates quietly, making small talk. It was mostly Harry telling the Grangers about all the gifts he got, and Ron trying to explain the garden gnomes at the Burrow to Mr. Granger. Leslie ignored most of it, hoping she wouldn't have to say anything until the kids could get back outside by themselves, and have birthday cake without the watchful eye of Hermione's parents.

Leslie began to eat her potatoes when she felt Mrs. Granger's stare. Leslie didn't look up, she pretended to be interested in Ron's story, but Mrs. Granger pressed.

"Leslie dear, is that all you're going to eat?" She asked, pointing to Leslie's plate. Leslie stared at her plate. Perhaps it wasn't as much food as she would normally eat, but her appetite lately hadn't been very strong. She didn't know why, she just wasn't as hungry anymore.

Leslie shrugged.

"Not really hungry." She said quickly, turning back to Ron.

"I'd like it if you ate a little more chicken. It's good for you." Mrs. Granger tried. Leslie just shook her head, never looking at her once.

"I'm fine." She cleared her throat, looking at Harry. "Who do you think will take over the team now that Wood's graduated?"

As Harry and Leslie continued a conversation about Quidditch, Leslie was not aware of the look that Mr. and Mrs. Granger shared, and Leslie was not aware that Hermione had noticed it too.

* * *

It was later that evening as Hermione, Ron, Harry and Leslie sat on the front porch of the Granger's house, watching the stars as they waited for Mr. Weasley to pick up Harry and Ron. After dinner, the four teens had gone back outside, had cake and ice cream, and ran around the backyard for hours with water balloons.

Now they had calmed down and were waiting for Harry and Ron's ride. It wasn't as though they would be saying goodbye for the rest of the summer. In fact, the girls would see the boys again the next day.

At the end of the school year, Leslie had complained to her grandmother that she hardly ever got to see her over the summer holidays, and it was the second week of July when Leslie got the invitation for herself and her three friends.

Professor McGonagall, who was the head of Gryffindor, was also Leslie Perks' grandmother. So Leslie hardly ever got to see her grandmother over the summer but the invitation she received by owl two weeks ago had asked her and her three friends if they'd be interested in spending the last month of summer at Hogwarts, where they would be able to see McGonagall nearly every day, and, have free reign of the castle. Leslie and her friends were couldn't wait. Spending part of the summer holidays at the place Leslie considered her true home was exciting.

They were leaving the next morning, and Leslie could not wait to get away from the Grangers. She knew that was horrible, but she didn't know how much more she could take of the daily reminders of a stable family life.

"Leslie, don't forget to bring your broomstick." Harry said suddenly. Leslie turned and glared at him.

"Harry Potter, what do you make of me? Do you _honestly_ think I would forget my broomstick? Whizbees, you must think I am as thick as a stump." She spat. Harry laughed.

"Only joking, Leslie. I know you wouldn't forget it." He pointed out. Leslie laughed with him when they saw the familiar Ford Angola pull up in the Grangers' driveway. Leslie knew Mr. Weasley must have landed it out in the country before driving the rest of the way on the road. The Ford Angola was a magical flying car, and Leslie had been in it once before when it was flying, but she had been asleep for the majority of the trip. She hoped she'd be able to ride in it one day fully conscious.

"Harry, he's here, time to go." Ron said, as he jumped up.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll see you in the morning." Harry said to Leslie, and Hermione. Leslie nodded.

"You finished packing yet?" Leslie asked. Harry rolled his eyes.

"What do _you _think?" He asked. Leslie smiled.

"I knew it. I'm not done either. I've got to go finish right now." She agreed. Ron grinned from ear to ear.

"Just think, in 12 hours, we're going to be at Hogwarts _all by ourselves!_ We can do whatever we want!" He said excitedly. Leslie smiled. He was right. There wouldn't be rules, there wouldn't be other students hogging the Quidditch pitch, there wouldn't be classes. It would be wonderful. And the best part was that Leslie wouldn't have to deal with her feelings anymore.

"See you lot tomorrow." Leslie called as Harry and Ron jumped in Mr. Weasley's car. Hermione and Leslie waved them off until the car was down the street.

"You haven't finished _packing?"_ Hermione shouted out suddenly. Leslie very nearly jumped out of her skin. She stared back.

"Hermione, relax, I don't have_ that_ much left to do." Leslie retorted, as the two walked back inside the house.

"Yes but mum wants us in bed at a decent time. We have to be up early, and it's already getting late." Hermione scolded. Leslie sighed.

"Besides, _you're_ not done either! I saw a few things left on your bed. So don't give me a hard time!" She pointed out. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes, but at least I've _started!"_

"So have I!"

"You packed your uniform!"

"I'll get it done!" Leslie led the way up to Hermione's bedroom and immediately began throwing clothes in her trunk without folding them. Leslie knew Hermione wanted to say something, but Leslie was grateful she kept her nosy mouth shut.

Half an hour later, Leslie was making headway in her packing, while Hermione simply sat on her bed, reading through last year's Transfiguration textbook. She claimed she wanted to be prepared for fourth year. That was when Mrs. Granger poked her head around the corner.

"Hi girls, how's the packing coming? Is there anything you need help with?" She asked politely. Leslie ignored her as she continued to stuff her trunk full. Hermione jumped up.

"Yeah, mum, this sweater has a hole in the sleeve. Do you have time to sew it for me?" She asked, as she pulled a pink sweater out of the trunk. Mrs. Granger took it and nodded.

"Of course, I'll get right on it." She paused. "Leslie, how about you?"

"No, I'm fine." Leslie said evasively. "Ready to go." Mrs. Granger nodded, held back for a moment before she finally smiled at Hermione and left the girls alone once again.

Leslie never gave it a second thought, as she crammed her last-minute things in the trunk. That was when she felt Hermione's eyes burning a hole through her back. Leslie sighed, as she finally turned around, and there was Hermione, staring at her.

"What?" Leslie asked. Hermione looked taken aback. She cleared her throat.

"Nothing, it's just," She paused, "Are you alright, Leslie?" Leslie turned away. This was about her conversation with Mrs. Granger. She _knew_ it.

"Yeah, fine, why wouldn't I be?" She asked quietly, trying to close the trunk.

No such luck.

"Well, Leslie," Hermione seemed hesitant. She knew how evasive Leslie was at times, and hated bringing things up at times. But this was important, "I've been talking to my mum lately."

"Yes?" Leslie asked.

"Well, you've hardly said two words to my mum _or_ my dad all summer. They just want to know what they've done wrong." Hermione replied. Leslie felt her heart hammer against her chest, as her defensive reaction was to get angry. She tried to suppress it, but no such luck. She turned to Hermione.

"They haven't done anything wrong! Whizbees, Hermione, you're all just overreacting!" She snapped, turning back to her trunk.

She didn't hear anything more from Hermione for the rest of the night.

* * *

As Leslie laid in her bed that night, reflecting on her day, her thoughts kept circling back to what Hermione had brought up. _You've hardly said two words to my mum or dad all summer. They just want to know what they've done wrong._ Leslie sighed to herself. _You love your daughter - that's what you've done wrong._ Leslie thought jealously. _Why couldn't my mum or dad have loved me?_

Things would be different after they arrived at Hogwarts. They _had_ to be. She wouldn't have to worry about the Grangers. She wouldn't have to worry about anybody's parents being around. _It's nothing the Grangers did. I don't want to be around _any_ parents! I hate that they're all so happy!_

Leslie curled up and closed her eyes, trying to imagine the castle, her haven, her safe place. Things would change once she was there. She could forget her feelings. She could just have fun.


	2. Goodbyes

Leslie felt the sunlight peeking through the lavender curtains the next morning, warming her face. Leslie smiled to herself, she would miss the summer when it was over. Still, she was happy for the day ahead of her. A whole month left of summer spent at the place she had made her home. Hogwarts.

She stretched out her legs and pulled herself out of bed. She noticed Hermione was already up, placing a few last minute things in her trunk. Leslie yawned, as she stared at her own trunk. _What a mess._ She thought to herself, as it still wasn't completely closed. She wished she could perform magic to make it shut. Without magic, Leslie had _no_ idea how she was going to get it to shut properly.

"Oh you're up, good. I was going to wake you pretty soon. Mum's making pancakes for breakfast." Hermione said, as she turned to face Leslie. Leslie felt that familiar twinge of pain inside, as she instinctively shook her head.

"I'm not hungry. Besides, I've got to get the rest of my stuff in this trunk. I told my grandmother we'd be there fairly early. The boys are going around 9:00a.m. I'd like to get there around the same time." She said. Hermione didn't say anything to that, she kept her mouth shut. Leslie was thankful. After their conversation last night, Leslie didn't want to talk about it anymore.

After Leslie got dressed, and opened the curtain to let the sunlight in, she went back to putting the last-minute items in her trunk. Her next task was the daunting one - trying to close it.

As Leslie struggled with the trunk's lid, the bedroom door opened and Hermione's mum came inside, holding a couple of plates of pancakes.

"Good morning, girls. I brought you breakfast. I didn't think you'd have much time to eat with us." Mrs. Granger said with a smile, as she placed the two plates down on Hermione's desk. Leslie didn't even turn around.

"Thanks mum, that's great." Hermione said gratefully. Leslie cleared her throat.

"Thanks, but I'm really not hungry." She said quickly.

"Leslie, are you feeling alright? You didn't eat much for dinner last night either. Are you coming down with something?" Mrs. Granger asked, approaching Leslie. Leslie turned away.

"No, I'm fine, I'm just not hungry." She said quickly, walking to the other side of the room, busying herself with a pair of socks near her bed. Mrs. Granger didn't press any further, but she approached Hermione.

"Here's your shirt, love. I sewed it last night for you." She said, as she took the blouse that was draped over her arm, and handed it to her daughter. Leslie peeked over her shoulder to see Hermione lean up and give her mum a kiss.

"Thanks mum, you're the best." Hermione said. Leslie turned away, feeling sick to her stomach. _I'll be gone soon. Then I won't have to think about it. _As Mrs. Granger left the room, Leslie began jumping on her trunk to make it close, trying hard to ignore the amazing smell of pancakes that were filling the room.

* * *

Hermione was all ready to go, but Leslie wasn't. Yes, she had gotten her trunk closed, but she had quickly realized she had misplaced her broomstick. She spent the next half an hour running through the house, trying to find it. Retracing steps didn't make sense - nothing did, where could she have put it? It wasn't as though she were allowed to use it at all during the past month. They lived in a Muggle neighbourhood; it would cause a few heads to turn, and an automatic expulsion from Hogwarts.

Leslie felt sweat beading on her forehead as she checked every closet, the attic and the basement, as well as the backyard. Leslie felt completely frazzled. Whizbees, they were going to be_ late! _

"Leslie dear, can I help with anything?" Mrs. Granger asked, peeking her head around a corner. Leslie immediately felt worse.

"No, I'm okay." She said, quickly heading in the opposite direction. She'd look in this room later.

"Are you looking for something? Why don't you let me help you find it? Then you'll be all set." Mrs. Granger offered. Leslie felt so angry. It was no wonder Hermione was ready to go. All morning, her mum had been her helping hand, closing the trunk for her, labeling everything that needed labeling. In the past, Leslie had let Mrs. Granger do all those things for her as well, but this year was different. This year, Leslie didn't want her help.

"No, Mrs. Granger, I'm fine." Leslie began to walk away, adding, "I can take care of myself."

Leslie headed for Hermione's room, hoping she'd find her broomstick there, but she felt a gentle arm holding her back. Leslie cringed inside, wanting nothing more than to pull away. Instead, she numbed herself.

"Leslie, can I have a minute?" Mrs. Granger asked. Trying to convince Mrs. Granger she had far too much to do to stop looking now, Mrs. Granger turned a deaf ear and pulled Leslie into the dining room, lowering her into a seat. As Mrs. Granger took her own seat, Leslie felt sick to her stomach. Leslie knew that look. Mrs. Granger wanted to _talk_ to her about something, something about important. Leslie swallowed.

Mrs. Granger stared at her seriously, her face slightly downcast. Leslie's heart was racing. This was the _last_ place she wanted to be.

"Leslie, I want to talk to you about something serious, and I hope you'll be honest with me because it's important." Mrs. Granger started. Leslie shrugged casually, trying to pretend like this wasn't a big deal, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what this would be about, but Whizbees, what the _hell_ was she going to say?

"Leslie, Mr. Granger and I, well, I suppose Hermione as well, we've all noticed you haven't quite been yourself lately. Leslie, dear, you've closed yourself off from us all. I want to know what has been going on with you lately." Mrs. Granger said slowly and cautiously.

Leslie swallowed as hard as she could, trying to calm down. She felt angry for being cornered like this, she felt angry at herself for allowing herself to be so obvious in her avoidance behaviours. She took a deep breath and looked Mrs. Granger in the eye.

"Mrs. Granger, I honestly don't know what you're talking about." She said flatly. Mrs. Granger looked surprised, as she raised an eyebrow.

"You don't?" She asked. Leslie shook her head. Mrs. Granger leaned back, eyeing Leslie carefully. Leslie wondered how much longer this would take. She didn't know how much more of it she would be able to handle.

"You've spent most of your time in your room, or outside. You hardly talk to Mr. Granger or me, and you're so quiet when you are with us. There must be something that's bothering you sweetheart. I wish you would just _talk_ to me." Mrs. Granger said with a little more urgency. Leslie simply shook her head, trying to look convincing enough.

"I'm fine. Honestly." She said. Of course it was a lie, but she couldn't just come right out and say it. _I'm not fine, Mrs. Granger. I hate living in this stupid house with your perfect family! It hurts far too much!_

"Leslie, I know this might sound a bit harsh, but I honestly can't say that I believe you." She waited for a reaction from Leslie, but Leslie remained cold, just staring at the floor, tapping her thumbs together.

"If you want my opinion, I think it may have even started while you were in school. Because Leslie, I don't think you've been the same since...since your Boggart." Mrs. Granger noticed Leslie's reaction immediately. Leslie's eyes shot up and stared at Mrs. Granger with surprise. Leslie hadn't been expecting that one. Her heart started racing, as her mind began clouding over with images of her Boggart, her parents. Leslie crossed her arms to keep herself from shivering.

"I thought so." Mrs. Granger said gently, leaning forward a little bit. Leslie didn't look up. She felt like crying now. _Don't cry!_

"Leslie, you've been through a lot this year. A _frightening_ ordeal. It's not a good time for you to shut yourself out. After everything that happened to you on that Isle..." Mrs. Granger stopped, noticing Leslie's body shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Leslie thought she might be sick. She forced herself not to think about Bellatrix, or the Cruciatus Curse. _No! I will _not_ talk about that!_ Leslie breathed out heavily.

"Leslie, you haven't told us anything about it. I only know what happened because your grandmother sent us a letter to let us know, so we would know what to expect, and from what Hermione has told us about that night. But I haven't heard anything from you. Leslie, I don't know what you're feeling, or what sorts of burdens you're carrying. It's nice to hear from Hermione about what's been going on, but Leslie, I want to know what _you're_ feeling. You're hurting, sweetheart, I can see that, why won't you just let me in, so I can help?" Mrs. Granger said so gently. Leslie felt her eyes misting, remembering last Christmas when she and Mrs. Granger talked about Harry, and how Leslie thought the two of them would never be friends again. She remembered talking about her Boggart and her fears. She remembered feeling safe and so much better after talking to Mrs. Granger.

But now, it was different. Now, Leslie was older. Now, Leslie realized what she could never have, and that it had been taunting her from under her nose the entire time. It made her angry. It made her sad. It made her want to scream from somewhere deep inside. She didn't want to deal with it, _any_ of it.

Leslie finally stood up, which took Mrs. Granger by surprise.

"Leslie?" She inquired.

"I'm feeling fine, Mrs. Granger." Leslie paused, before she walked away. "It's nearly time to go."

* * *

Leslie and Hermione were running late, but it wasn't their fault, Leslie reasoned. Leslie knew the girls shouldn't have let their cats out to play for the morning. It was nearly impossible to round up Jinxie and Crookshanks from chasing field mice. Leslie had several new scratches on her arms and face from when she had to pry Jinxie away from her prey, and force her into her traveling cage. At least Hermione's cat was a little more docile. He hadn't freaked out quite as bad as Jinxie.

Now, the two girls had their things piled in the fireplace, ready to travel to Hogwarts via the Floo Network, the same method as Hermione and Leslie. Leslie sighed, she wasn't exactly impressed with the Floo Network. As convenient and quick as it was, she hated the outcome of smelling like ash all day, and being covered in soot. Well, at least it was better than taking the Hogwarts Express. Whizbees, but that was a long trip.

Still, nothing could break her spirits. Not even after Mrs. Granger had cornered her to talk. True, she didn't like to see the look of confusion on Mrs. Granger's face when she had walked away, but Leslie knew she would get over it. Any minute now, Leslie would be with Harry and Ron, she would get to see her grandmother again, and better yet, she would be far away from the Grangers, without having to worry about the fact that she was an orphan who would never have loving parents.

"Well, I suppose I'll go first." Leslie said quickly, heading for the fireplace. She went to grab a handful of Floo Powder, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Leslie sighed and turned around to see Mrs. Granger standing there, staring at her seriously once again.

"Do promise you'll write." She said quietly. Leslie only nodded, as she felt her body go rigid when Mrs. Granger wrapped her arms around her in a hug. Leslie froze, and no matter how much she knew she should hug her back, just so she would think everything was alright, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Mrs. Granger let go of Leslie, with a hurt look in her eye, which Leslie promptly turned from having to look at. Mr. Granger approached her and squeezed her shoulder with a bit of a smile.

"We'll see you at Christmas then, won't we?" He asked. Once again, Leslie only nodded. Leslie turned back to the fireplace and grabbed a large handful of Floo Powder. She stepped into the fireplace carefully, and looked out.

"I suppose I'll see you in a moment." She said to Hermione, who nodded with a smile. Leslie nodded back and took one last look at the Grangers. Leslie couldn't exactly read their expressions, but if what Mrs. Granger had said earlier was true, they were worried about her. Leslie didn't like that. She could take care of herself, and the last thing she wanted was for them to worry about her.

"Hogwarts!" She announced, without saying any final goodbyes. She watched the green flames rise all around her, and as she was transported to Hogwarts, she was shocked to find that the feelings of joy she'd thought she'd have about traveling so far away from the Grangers hadn't come. The constant reminders that she was an orphan were left behind. She should be happy. Leslie couldn't puzzle it out.


	3. Home Sweet Home

She landed hard in the fireplace at Hogwarts, and groaned at the bruise she knew would form from it. Lifting herself up, she ducked her head and exited the fireplace, coughing a little from the rising smoke around her. She was filthy, covered in ash, but she still smiled when she realized she was in her grandmother's office. She made it. She was back at Hogwarts.

Leslie realized she was the only one, though. Her grandmother wasn't around, neither were Harry or Ron. Figuring they would be there shortly, Leslie pulled out her wand and pointed it at her clothes.

"_Abluo Talaris_." She said to herself as the ashes disappeared from her clothes. Breathing out, she placed her wand back in her pocket, and walked around, taking it all in. Even after only being gone a month, she had missed Hogwarts dearly. It was her home, the closest thing she had to one, and this was where the last of her family was. Her grandmother. But Whizbees, where was she _now?_

Leslie noticed a piece of parchment sitting on her grandmother's desk. Leslie approached it and immediately noticed her name neatly scrawled at the top.

_Leslie, and the rest of you,_

_I trust the Floo Network has been kind to you today, and I offer my deepest apologies for not being able to greet you when you arrived, but I had a handful of errands I needed to accomplish in Hogsmeade today. I trust you are old enough to settle yourselves in without my help. I shall see you when I return. In the meantime, behave and have fun. If you are hungry, you can find the kitchen by the Ravenclaw common room, near the fruit basket painting. The House Elves will be sure to help you out._

_M. Mcgonagall_

Leslie puckered her brow. What in the world were _House Elves?_

Just then, Leslie heard a loud _thud_, and she whipped around to see Hermione getting up quickly from her fall. Leslie smiled, dropping the parchment back on her grandmother's desk as Hermione coughed a little. Leslie pulled out her wand.

"_Abluo Talaris_." She said, and Hermione was as good as new. Hermione immediately glared at her.

"I could have done that." She said with a raised eyebrow. Leslie shrugged.

"Well, I owed you one from last year." She replied. Hermione puckered her brow, as if trying to remember something.

"Oh that!" She remembered, and then shook her head. "Wow Leslie, you've got a sharp memory."

"What took you so long anyway?" Leslie asked, changing the subject. "I thought you were right behind me."

"Oh." Hermione shifted her weight a little. "I was just talking to mum and dad. They...they just wondered if you were alright." Leslie rolled her eyes.

"I _told_ them I was fine. Do I need to plaster a sign on my forehead?" She snapped, exhaling loudly. Hermione didn't say anything, as she looked around the office.

"Where is everyone?" She asked, eager to change the subject. Leslie handed Hermione the piece of parchment.

"But I still don't know what's keeping Harry and Ron. I would have thought they would have been just as eager to arrive as us." She replied, happy they weren't talking about the Grangers anymore. Leslie nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard that familiar _thud_ in the fireplace. _Speak of the devil,_ she thought.

Sure enough, there was Ron, covered in soot, stumbling his way out of the fireplace, coughing hard.

"Blimey!" He complained. "When will they invent an _easier_ magical way to travel?"

"What do you think Apparation is, Ronald?" Hermione asked, as she rolled her eyes. Leslie stifled a giggle as she watched for Harry.

Sure enough, Harry collided hard with the concrete floor in the fireplace. Leslie ran over and offered her hand to hoist him up. Ron cleared his throat.

"Fine, yeah don't worry about me, Leslie. I'm alright." He said sarcastically. Leslie rolled her eyes as she pulled Harry out of the fireplace.

"_Abluo Talaris_." She said, holding her wand up to Harry. He grinned from ear to ear when his clothes were clean again.

"Thanks Leslie, I needed that." He said. Ron cleared his throat a little louder, and Hermione whipped out her wand with an irritated sigh.

"_Abluo Talaris_!" She snapped, and Ron fell backwards from the force of the spell. He was clean, but he was on the ground.

"Well I guess I should _thank_ you." He said angrily as he stood up. Hermione glared at him.

"Maybe if you learned a little bit of patience, these sorts of things wouldn't happen." She spat. Leslie smiled to herself as the two of them continued arguing back and forth. _At least some things haven't changed._

"Well, I guess we should pull our things out of the fireplace. I bet Hedwig's pretty sour about being covered in soot right now." Harry said, heading back toward the fireplace. Leslie smacked her head.

"Right, Jinxie. Whizbees, she's not going to speak to me for days now." She complained, as she reached for Jinxie's cage. Harry snickered.

"You know cats can't talk, right?" He asked. Leslie glared at him sideways.

"You know what I mean." She ignored her cat's hissing as she pulled open the cage door and let Jinxie out. The orange cat didn't even wait for Leslie to perform magic to clean her up. Jinxie bolted out the door before she could do anything. Leslie sighed, and reached into the fireplace to pull out the rest of the stuff. She handed Hermione Crookshanks, who was a lot more docile than Jinxie, and proceeded to pull out an owl cage. Leslie quickly realized she wasn't holding Hedwig. This owl was much smaller, and much more rambunctious than Hedwig.

"Um...?" She inquired as she waited for someone to give her an explanation. Ron turned around and rolled his eyes.

"Oh thanks, Leslie." He said, taking the cage from her. Leslie still stared at him, with a questioning glare. Ron looked around and realized everyone was expecting some sort of explanation.

"Oh right, I guess I haven't told you yet. This is my new owl. Mum got him for me since Scabbers ran away. I'm surprised, really. I would have though after I lost the family rat, mum would have been sore about me getting a new pet. But I suppose she felt rotten for me, since, you know, my rat was a Deatheater all this time. So one morning I woke up and found this Scops owl by my bed. He's just a baby, still, and really annoying half the time. Ginny named him before I could stop her, and now the stupid thing won't respond to anything else. His name's Pigwidgeon. I know, stupid name, right? I call him Pig." Ron explained. Leslie snorted and Hermione shook her head.

"That's horrible, Ronald. I think Pigwidgeon is a wonderful name." She said, crossing her arms. Ron sniffed.

"You would."

"Why don't we bring the animals up to the common room? We can get the rest of our stuff later." Leslie said quickly, before another argument erupted between Ron and Hermione.

"Good idea, right guys?" Harry asked, turning to the two of them. Ron and Hermione glared at each other before they finally nodded, and gathered their animals.

Leslie only had Jinxie's cage to carry, since Jinxie took off, so she helped Harry with Hedwig's cage. Leslie enjoyed seeing the castle without the busy bustle of students. It was so different. Leslie loved it.

They arrived at the Gryffindor Common Room and were surprised to see that the Fat Lady was missing, and so the entrance to the Common Room was already opened. The four friends let themselves in, and Leslie immediately felt at home. The red furniture, the large fireplace, the stained glass windows. It was beautiful.

Leslie helped Harry place Hedwig's cage down, as Harry opened up the cage, and let Hedwig out one of the windows.

"I'll let her fly around for a while. She hates being in her cage for too long." Harry said. Ron sighed.

"I'd let Pig out for a bit, but he's not really trained yet. He'd probably get eaten by the Whomping Willow or something." He said, ignoring Hermione's glare. Leslie smiled, looking around.

"So...what do you guys think we should do?" She asked. Ron laughed.

"Bloody hell, we've got the _whole_ castle to ourselves." He pointed out. Harry grinned and stared at Leslie.

"And the whole Quidditch Pitch."

* * *

It wasn't long before Leslie, Harry, Hermione and Ron were standing in the middle of the large Quidditch pitch, staring up at the empty stands and the large golden hoops that surrounded the field. Leslie smiled to herself as she breathed in the fresh air, clinging to her broomstick gently. She couldn't wait to fly again - it was one of her favourite things to do.

Hermione was eyeing her broomstick with a bit of anxiety. Hermione wasn't the greatest flyer, in fact, she wasn't a decent Quidditch player either. She didn't even own her own broomstick. She had to use one of the school's.

Harry and Ron were talking about something, but Leslie couldn't wait anymore. She quickly mounted her broomstick and kicked off the ground, without waiting for anyone.

"Hey, no fair!" She heard Harry yell, but she was already feet off the ground, and could barely hear him. She felt the breeze blowing hard against her face as she raced up, and through the clouds. She felt so free up here, away from everything. She zig-zagged back and forth until she realized Harry was chasing her.

Leslie let out a little scream and headed in another direction, increasing her speed.

"I'm gonna catch you!" Harry shouted. Leslie laughed.

"Don't be so cocky! You're not the only one who knows how to fly." She shouted behind her, suddenly turning upside down and bolting in the opposite direction. Harry was taken off guard, as he circled around a cloud, and took off after her again. Leslie couldn't stop laughing, as she turned around to see where Harry was. But she couldn't see him anywhere. _Coward's probably hiding behind a -_

"GOTCHA!" Leslie nearly fell off her broomstick as she let out a loud shriek. Harry was right in front of her. Somehow, he must have sped up behind the clouds, and circled around to face her. Harry was laughing hysterically as Leslie glared at him.

"That was low." She said simply. Harry shrugged.

"I couldn't just _let_ you get away. After all, I've been flying longer than you have. It would bruise my pride." He pointed out. Leslie smacked him gently on the arm.

"Fine, but if the others ask, I _let_ you catch me." She said, as she headed back down to the field. Harry once again chased after her, but Leslie slowed down to let him fly beside her. The two were giggling and trying to catch their breath by the time they reached the field. Ron and Hermione were staring at them, Hermione had her arms crossed.

"Show offs!" Ron said under his breath. Leslie tried not to laugh, as she hovered on her broomstick.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I just couldn't control myself. It's been so long since I last flew." Leslie replied. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Leslie, it's been a month." She pointed out. Leslie glared.

"It feels much longer than that!" She exclaimed.

"Alright, get the Quaffle, let's go!" Harry said, pushing off again. Ron grabbed the Quaffle and the four friends took off in the air, and began to play.

* * *

They played for nearly two hours. Leslie was out of breath, but even that wouldn't stop her. She was nearly as passionate about Quidditch as Harry was. Especially when Harry flew right beside her after their game was finished and gave her a high five.

"Leslie, you're just getting better and better! It's a good thing we've got you on the Quidditch team. You're an amazing Chaser!" He said. Leslie raised an eyebrow and gave him a smirk.

"Really? That's not what you said last year." She said simply, remembering back to the previous year when Harry and Leslie had gotten into their first fight. They had both said such horrible things to each other, but the one thing Leslie had remembered the most was when Harry put down her Quidditch abilities, telling everyone she was drunk when she played, because she drank Firewhisky.

Harry immediately looked bothered.

"Look, I know what I said was stupid, and _I_ was stupid and horrible, and I did say I was sorry." He said all in one breath. Leslie had to smile. He really _had_ felt horrible for everything that had been said, and for being so horrible to him, but Leslie was over it all now. She only brought it up as a joke, but she supposed she had better not in the future. She didn't realize Harry was still somewhat upset by it.

Leslie giggled a little bit.

"It's alright, Harry. Don't worry about it." She flew around him in a quick circle. "Besides, if you were talking about my landings, you were spot on." Harry laughed and the two flew up through the clouds again, leaving Hermione and Ron arguing about the proper way to catch a Snitch. Leslie ignored them. She was having too much fun on her broomstick. She was having too much fun with Harry.

As Leslie went to do a dive on her broomstick, she saw a familiar figure walking onto the Quidditch pitch. Leslie grinned widely and picked up speed, racing toward the ground with full speed. Professor McGonagall looked nervous as Leslie came closer.

Leslie landed several feet away from where she had planned (she'd hoped her landings would have improved, but they hadn't). She dropped her broomstick and ran to her grandmother, who greeted her with a smile.

"Hello, Professor." Leslie said between breaths. Since McGonagall wanted to keep their relationship a secret from the student body, Leslie had always been used to calling her Professor, instead of grandmother. Even when they were alone, away from the nosiness of fellow students, Leslie still hadn't grown accustomed to calling her grandmother.

"Hello Leslie, I trust you all made it in one piece?" Professor McGonagall inquired. Leslie nodded.

"Yes, and I got your note. How was your trip into Hogsmeade?" She asked.

"It went well, thank you. I completed most of my errands. I shall have to go in again sometime this week, but no harm done. I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner. Although it seems you've settled in alright." McGonagall replied, motioning toward Leslie's broomstick, and her three friends. Leslie laughed a little.

"Yes, I couldn't help myself. I haven't flown in a while." She said.

"It's only been a month." McGonagall pointed out. Leslie bit her lip. Curse them all! They just didn't understand. Leslie only nodded.

"Oh, and Leslie, I wanted to congratulate you on your marks for last year." McGonagall said suddenly, changing the subject. Leslie's stomach dropped. The only downside to having your grandmother also be the Head of Gryffindor _and_ a professor was that she knew your grades before you did. It was a little unsettling.

"Oh?" Was all Leslie could get out. She wasn't exactly sure if she wanted to know how she did. True, she knew she must have done decently, for McGonagall to say she wanted to _congratulate_ her. But doing well wasn't always enough for Leslie. She wanted to _excel!_

"You received top marks in all of your classes. Well, nearly anyway. Hermione got the top mark in all her classes, but you were right under her. Well done!" McGonagall congratulated, by patting Leslie on the shoulder. Leslie breathed out, relieved. She swallowed hard.

"Thank you, Professor." She managed to say.

As she tried to catch her breath, Hermione, Ron and Harry walked over to join them. They said hello to McGonagall, who greeted them as warmly as she could, with a hint of a smile. Leslie had to smile to herself. McGonagall wasn't the warmest creature in the world.

"Well, I'm glad you all made it safely, and I'm glad you are having fun, but despite the fact that it seems you have the entire castle to yourselves for the remainder of the summer holidays, this is simply not the case. There are still rules that are intended to be followed. I expect you to behave as though you were students here, because even though there are not classes or professors monitoring the hallways, you are still expected to behave as though there were. That means all the rules you are expected to follow during the school year are still in play. Just because you are visiting does not give you the excuse to act like idiotic children. Behave in a manner that upholds the name of Hogwarts." She announced, clasping her hands behind her back, her usual stance when delivering a lecture. Leslie and her friends all nodded as innocently as possible. Leslie knew why they were getting the third degree. The four of them tended to be slightly prone to mischief.

"Right, well in the meantime, have fun and be good. I had some House Elves bring the rest of your luggage up to your dormitories. You may join me for dinner in the Great Hall at 6p.m. I must attend to some business until then. I trust you can keep yourselves occupied?" McGonagall raised an eyebrow. Leslie smiled, turning to her friends.

"Don't worry, Professor," She said, "I don't think we could possibly get bored, now that we're home."


	4. Wallowing Wizzie

Leslie couldn't believe how quickly the first week of August had flown by. It didn't seem possible that they had already been at Hogwarts for a week now, enjoying the empty castle and all its privileges. Harry and Leslie spent nearly all day, everyday on the Quidditch pitch, improving their skills for the upcoming Quidditch season. Leslie still couldn't master her landings, no matter _how_ many times Harry had tried to teach her his way, or offer friendly advice. Leslie couldn't do it, no matter how hard she tried. She was, however, improving greatly on her passing and catching. She had especially become quite talented during the week at dodging bludgers, although Leslie suspected Harry was taking it easy on her with them, because he didn't want to hurt her.

Hermione spent a lot of time in the library.

"Hermione, school hasn't even _started_ yet. Why can't you just enjoy your summer vacation?" Leslie had asked one morning, as Hermione stuffed her bag full of already checked out library books.

"Leslie, have you _seen_ the size of our library? If I want to read through all the books before I graduate in four years, I've got to make use of all the time I can. This is the perfect time for me to get that reading in. There's nobody in the library, _and_ I've got no homework to concern myself with yet. It's absolutely wonderful!" Hermione had explained. Leslie, Harry and Ron couldn't understand. Hermione was smarter than Ron and Harry put together, why did she think she needed to memorize the entire Hogwarts library? Leslie would never understand Hermione.

Ron spent a lot of time stopping by the kitchen, sneaking some helpings of food from the House Elves, who were happy to serve them.

The House Elves.

Leslie, Hermione, Harry and Ron had their first encounter with the House Elves during breakfast the day after they arrived. Professor McGonagall had told them to go to the kitchen to get some breakfast, and when the teens had arrived, what they found was something they hadn't expected.

Small pinkish creatures with ridiculously long ears, wearing nothing but little rags, scurried about the kitchens, preparing everything in their path for the children. Hermione, after finding out from Professor McGonagall that these House Elves worked round the clock, with no pay, was appalled.

"This is absolutely atrocious! This is slavery!" Hermione had stated.

"Now, Ms. Granger, this is the House Elves' duty and way of life. It is not slavery, they _choose_ this lifestyle. It is in the House Elves' genes to serve their masters. They love it." McGonagall had explained.

"But...why can't we just...free them?" Leslie asked, nearly as heartbroken about the working conditions of those poor little elves as Hermione.

"It would destroy them. Trying to free a House Elf is like taking away their honor." McGonagall had told them.

And so Leslie and Hermione had to pretend like everything was the way it should be when they went to the kitchen for breakfasts and lunches. Leslie couldn't believe those little House Elves actually _enjoyed_ working 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with no breaks or rests_ and _no pay. Hermione wouldn't stop going on about it.

"Slave labour, that's what it is! I don't think McGonagall is telling us the whole truth." She said one afternoon.

"Hermione, she _is _telling the truth. Magical families all over the world own a House Elf, and they're loyal to that family until the day they die. It's what makes those sodding creatures happy. It's in their blood." Ron replied, as he bit hard into his roast beef sandwich. "Beswides, they mafe grood fwood." Hermione threw a spoon at him, which a House Elf quickly retrieved from the floor, and ran to the sink to rinse it off.

* * *

It was a Thursday afternoon and the sun was at its peak in the sky, shining down brightly on the four friends, as they carried their broomsticks out onto the Quidditch field. It was always such a feat to convince Hermione and Ron to join them in a game of Quidditch, but it was always much more fun with the four of them, than just Harry and Leslie. Besides, it gave them all some exercise and fresh air, which Leslie pointed out, both Hermione and Ron needed since they spent so much time in the library or the kitchen.

"They have good food, I can't help it!" Ron protested.

As they walked out toward the Quidditch pitch, Harry had to carry Ron's broomstick, because Ron was carrying the picnic basket the House Elves had packed up for them. Leslie had thought it would be a fun idea to have a picnic out on the Quidditch pitch before they played, but it wasn't until she remembered the House Elves would be the ones responsible for that job that she regretted the idea. Still, the House Elves were eager to pack up a nice picnic lunch for them, and send it along with their lowest bows of humility. Leslie always felt awkward around those House Elves. Whizbees, it wasn't right.

"I can't _wait_ to see what those elves packed for us." Ron said eagerly, licking his lips.

"Didn't you _just_ eat Ron?" Hermione asked disapprovingly. Ron glared at her.

"An _hour_ ago. Bloody hell, Hermione, I'm a growing man."

Leslie and Hermione snickered.

Hermione laid out the blanket she had brought and Ron immediately dropped the basket and began pulling out pieces of fruit, sandwiches, raw veggies, desserts, and everything else the House Elves had stuffed into such a small basket. Leslie was sure magic must have been used to fit everything in there, as she took a spot on the blanket beside Harry. Harry and Leslie both grabbed a sandwich, while Hermione began munching on an apple, with her nose already in a book entitled _Pure As Snow: The Advanced History of Unicorns._ While Hermione read, and Ron stuffed his face, Harry tried to teach Leslie the theory of landing properly.

"You've got to envision _where_ you want to land, and then concentrate on a fixed point on the ground. It's all about focus, really. It's like a tightrope walker. That's the only reason they can walk across without falling. They have a point of focus. That's what _you_ need, Leslie. You need to focus." Harry explained.

"Maybe, but I'm _trying._ I see where I want to land in my mind, and I just end up down the field, or nowhere near where I had anticipated." She sighed. "Maybe I'm just determined to be a good Quidditch player, but a sour lander."

"Come on, let's try again." Harry grabbed his broomstick after he scarfed his sandwich. Leslie, not having finished hers quite yet, placed it down on a napkin, and pulled out her wand, pointing it at her sandwich.

"_Interclusio Formica."_ She said, and it didn't seem as though anything had happened. Harry looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Obviously, he didn't recognize the spell.

"Blocks the ants from eating my food." She said as-a-matter-of-factly. She grabbed her broomstick. "Let's go."

She shot off the ground and Harry chased after her.

"We're not working on speed, Leslie, we're working on landings." Harry reminded. Leslie rolled her eyes.

"Alright, alright, Professor Potter." She smirked. "So, focus?"

"You're not taking this seriously." Harry pointed out.

"Why take it seriously? It's just landing, Harry. It's not like you need to be able to land in Quidditch anyway."

"Perhaps not, but there are quite a lot of people watching you when you play Quidditch, Leslie. You might want to think about landing with the rest of the team. It adds to a sense of unity, you know." Harry said. Leslie shot a glare at him.

"Alright, I want you to try and land right by the corner of the picnic blanket." Harry said, ignoring her look. Leslie looked down where Hermione and Ron were still eating. Leslie swallowed, and looked back at Harry.

"You know I won't land there." She pointed out.

"That's the kind of attitude that isn't helping, Leslie. You've got to _believe_ you can do it. Now, just fix the image in your mind about landing where you want to land. Got it?" Harry asked. Leslie raised an eyebrow.

"Since when did you become a landing expert?" She asked.

"Do you want my help, or not?"

Leslie sighed, and stared at the point Harry wanted her to land on. She sighed, and tried to concentrate. She did what Harry told her to do, imagine where she was going to land.

"And be confident." Harry said. He must have realized she was far too anxious. Leslie opened her eyes and looked at him.

"I'm confident." She lied. Harry looked away, rolling his eyes as she gripped the broomstick handle. Seeing in her mind the place where she wanted to land, she gathered all the confidence she could muster, and dove down for the ground. She concentrated and concentrated...

And landed ten feet away.

Leslie breathed out as Hermione and Ron looked over to her, and Harry came in to land beside her. Leslie couldn't even look at him. He cleared his throat.

"You're getting better." He said simply.

"Compared to what?" Leslie asked.

"Um..." Harry struggled to find an answer. Leslie sighed.

"Like I said, you don't need to know how to land in Quidditch anyway." She said, placing her broomstick down on the grass. Harry shrugged.

"That's true, but...wouldn't you feel better if you could just master it?" He asked. Leslie sighed.

"Of course I would," She looked up at the sky and then back at the ground, "I just...can't right now." Harry nodded his understanding.

"If it means anything, I believe you can do it." He said simply. Leslie turned and offered a smile.

"Yeah, you always did believe in me." She picked up her broomstick again. "I suppose that's why I ended up playing Quidditch, isn't it?" She shot off toward the sky, and once again, Harry chased after her, catching up without any trouble. It didn't bother Leslie that Harry was faster than her. It didn't bother her that he was a better Quidditch player than she was. It didn't even really bother her that he could land where he wanted to and she couldn't, but just once, she wanted to be able to match him on something. She really did want to be able to land properly, but her frustration prevented her from practicing. Instead, she flew around the Quidditch pitch, chasing after Harry and circling through the Quidditch hoops. This was where she was the happiest anyway. Up in the air, not on the ground.

Leslie suddenly looked down as she tried to catch her breath, and she saw that Ron was looking up at the two, and pointing off the field. Leslie followed his finger and saw what Ron was seeing. There was a carriage arriving at the castle's front doors. Curiously, Leslie flew a little closer, as Harry joined her, they waited to see who emerged from the carriage.

Leslie's face immediately lit up when she saw who came out of the carriage.

Professor Wizzie!

Both Harry and Leslie bolted forward on their broomsticks and flew the distance from the Quidditch pitch to the front of the castle in seconds. Harry and Leslie touched down (Leslie was further from Harry, but she caught up by foot), and the two of them ran to the front of the castle, where Professor Wizzie was just pulling a small suitcase from the carriage.

"Professor Wizzie!" Leslie exclaimed as Wizzie turned around and saw the two students waiting there. Leslie was expecting Wizzie to run toward the students with her bubbling happiness. Professor Wizzie was a very joyful individual, full of life and love. But there was something different about her. She didn't run forward. She simply smiled and approached them slowly. Even her smile seemed weak. Leslie pretended she didn't notice.

"Hello Leslie, Harry." She said in a quiet voice. Leslie couldn't understand why she didn't seem excited or eager. Maybe she was simply tired. It must have been a long trip for her. "What are you both doing at Hogwarts so early?"

Leslie froze. _Whizbees, what have I done?_ Professor McGonagall had told them that the relationship between McGonagall and Leslie was a very strict secret that was to be told to nobody. Leslie swallowed, as she tried to think of a good lie. What could _possibly_ be a good enough reason to be at Hogwarts before everybody else?

"Er..." She started.

"Visiting your grandmum, are you?" Wizzie asked. Leslie felt herself breathing out in relief, as she shared a quick glance with Harry. How could she-?

"Not to worry, little ones. All the staff know. Not to worry, the secret is completely safe from the rest of the students here. Your grandmother just thought it was best to let us all know, especially with you coming to Hogwarts a month early." Wizzie explained. Leslie sighed. _She could have let _me_ know!_

Leslie breathed out slowly.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall invited us to stay for the rest of the summer. Harry, Hermione, Ron and I. I suppose she took to heart all my complaints about never getting to spend any time with her over summer holidays. She's letting us stay here before the rest of the students get here at the end of the month." She explained. Wizzie nodded.

"Been having a good time, then?" She asked. Both Harry and Leslie nodded their wholehearted agreement.

"Splendid." Wizzie said quietly. Leslie sighed, and immediately changed the subject.

"How was your summer, Professor?" She asked. "Did you get to see Sn, er, Professor Snape at all?"

Leslie immediately regretted asking the question. Wizzie's face simply dropped, and she grew very silent. Leslie and Harry shared an awkward glance as Wizzie cleared her throat.

"No, we, er, well, we aren't seeing each other anymore." She said quietly. Leslie's stomach dropped. When in the heck did that happen?

"What?" She asked. Wizzie simply shrugged with a fake smile.

"Nevermind, dears, nothing to worry about. It isn't that big of a deal, you know? It just didn't work out. Severus, well, he was a little depressing." She explained. Leslie secretly rolled her eyes. _That' s a slight understatement._

"After everything that happened with Professor Lupin, Professor Snape turned into a bit of a sourpuss."

_Another understatement._ Leslie thought, sharing the same thought with Harry, as they shared a glance.

"But Professor, that's hardly fair! Everything that happened with Professor Lupin wasn't your fault. It was...Bellatrix Lestrange's." Leslie swallowed. Whizbees, she couldn't even _say_ her name without feeling her joints stiffen. Bellatrix Lestrange had caused so much trouble the year before, not only with Leslie and her friends. The whole reason Bellatrix had been able to cast the spell on Leslie that lured her to the Isle of the Black Fog was because she had disguised herself as Professor Wizzie, by use of Polyjuice Potion. Disguised as Wizzie, Lestrange had flirted significantly with Professor Lupin, causing the large rift between Snape and Wizzie. Leslie sighed. Even though she hated Professor Snape with a wicked vengeance, Professor Wizzie had always been her favourite professor, and she knew how happy she had been with Snape. Now, Wizzie seemed empty.

"No matter, it's all in the past now, isn't it? It doesn't do well to dwell on the past, you know. Best to move on." Wizzie said with the most forced smile Leslie had ever seen. Leslie smiled sympathetically with a slight nod. What was she supposed to say?

"Not to worry, though. I won't let it affect my teaching. It is going to be a good year of Muggle Studies." Wizzie breathed out. "Well, I'd best be getting settled. There's a lot of lessons to be planned before the term begins. Have fun, children. I will see you around the castle." Wizzie picked up her suitcase, and walked past Harry and Leslie, entering the castle at a slow walk. Once the door was closed behind her, Leslie breathed out and stared at Harry.

"It won't affect her teaching? I'm not so sure about that. Did you _see_ her face? She's completely heartbroken." Leslie pointed out. Harry nodded.

"I noticed too. Wow, I didn't realize those two were so, you know, in love." Harry made a gagging noise and Leslie had to laugh. The four friends had always been disgusted at the relationship between Wizzie and Snape, never understanding what Wizzie could have seen in that man, but now, Leslie couldn't help but feel rotten.

Hermione and Ron ran up the stairs to join Leslie and Harry. They were both out of breath. Obviously, they had run from the Quidditch field. Leslie smiled.

"Hey guys." She greeted.

"Bloody _hell!_ You couldn't _wait_ for us?" Ron yelled out, trying to catch his breath. Leslie looked at Harry, and realized why Hermione and Ron were out of breath. Leslie and Harry had flown their broomsticks over. Hermione and Ron hadn't.

"Sorry, but y'know, brooms are faster." Harry explained.

"Ya think?" Ron shouted.

"Why didn't you fly _your_ broomsticks over?" Leslie asked suddenly. Ron looked like he was stuck on that one, looking back toward the Quidditch field in sudden realization. Hermione simply exhaled loudly.

"Honestly, you can't rely on broomsticks to take you _everywhere._ That's pure laziness!" She exclaimed, clearing her throat, still catching her own breath.

"Anyway, how is Professor Wizzie doing?" Ron asked suddenly. Leslie and Hermione stifled a giggle. It had always been well-known that Ron had a certain liking toward Professor Wizengamut, and so when Leslie and Harry filled in Hermione and Ron about the split between the two professors, Ron's entire face lit up.

"Ronald!" Hermione scolded. Ron cleared his throat.

"Well, er, I mean, what a sodding shame." He turned back to Harry. "I just hope this doesn't make Snape any worse for the wear. He's bad enough without the added load of relationship troubles." Leslie sighed and turned to Harry.

"He's right," She sighed. "He already hates Gryffindors. I hope this doesn't make things worse."


	5. Cassandra Crims

Leslie trudged down the corridors of Hogwarts on a rainy afternoon a week later. _Whizbees,_ she thought, _this is crummy weather for summer holidays! _Once again, time seemed to fall away too quickly, as it was already the middle of August. Hogwarts was beginning to seem more like Hogwarts, as the term grew closer and closer. Classrooms were being prepared, owls were being sent, and professors were beginning to show up. Of course, every one of them knew all about Leslie and Professor McGonagall, so nobody seemed too surprised to find four children running about the castle in the middle of the summer. Although, when Professor Snape had arrived a few days earlier, he had shot a glare their way, and walked away muttering some snide comment about what a mistake it was to let students run about the castle without any supervision. He had even threatened them.

"Do not be fooled by the summer months, Gryffindors. Keep in mind I still have the authority to dole out detentions and take away points. How pleased do you think your fellow students would be to arrive at school to find your precious red hourglass in the negatives?" He sneered. After Snape had walked away, Ron rolled his eyes.

"Great, so much for everything being normal now that Snape and Wizzie broke up. Snape seems worse than usual!" He complained. "You won't even be able to _look _at the man without him taking away 6000 points or something!"

* * *

Leslie sighed, as she headed down the hallway that rainy day. She was on her way to see Professor McGonagall. Harry and Ron were back in the Gryffindor common room, playing wizard's chess, while Hermione was probably burying her head in a book at the library. That morning, the four teens had received their Hogwarts letters by owl, each with a detailed list of supplies they needed for their fourth year. Now, Leslie was on her way to speak to her grandmother about when they would be able to go to Diagon Alley to purchase everything.

Leslie sighed. She was excited to begin the new term at Hogwarts, but also a little frightened. After the horror of a year she had experienced the year before, with having to take extra Transfiguration lessons to boost her marks, not being able to face her Boggart, and fighting with Harry for the majority of the year, Leslie was not very optimistic about her fourth year. True, she and Harry had made amends, and she highly doubted they would ever fight like that again, not after everything they had been through on the Isle of the Black Fog, but still, she worried what school life would hold this year.

Leslie breathed out as she turned a corner, and as she had, she noticed the moving photograph that was hanging on a wall with many other students who had passed away throughout the history of Hogwarts. Her friend from her second year, Christopher Kedavra, the boy she had known and befriended, who died when the Venom of Trog had infiltrated Hogwarts. Christopher didn't stand a chance once he drank that vile poison. Leslie sighed, feeling tears stinging her eyes as she remembered her friend. She had vowed that year that she would make sure the man who had done it wouldn't get away with it, but for a year and a half now, he had. And everyday Leslie looked at his scum of a son, Draco Malfoy, Leslie was reminded of how Lucius Malfoy was getting away with murder. _One day_, Leslie thought, _one day_ _people will know the truth, and he will rot in Azkaban!_

Leslie smiled at the moving photograph of the young boy, and moved on. It hurt to remember him, to remember Tenille, the Hufflepuff girl Lucius had used to poison people using the Imperius Curse. Because of Mr. Malfoy, Tenille had been forced to flee from Hogwarts and now she was attending Beaubaxtons in France, to avoid rumors about what had happened. Leslie missed Tenille, and Christopher; what had happened to them was unfair, and the man responsible was roaming free.

She moved on, unable to deal with those memories, that bitterness. _Just forget it,_ she thought to herself, _one day Malfoy will screw up again and we'll find proof and we can convict him. Then he'll spend the rest of his life in Azkaban._

That was when Leslie realized she was walking past the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She felt her stomach sink as she peeked inside.

Leslie figured she must be feeling more emotional than usual, but more painful memories flooded over her as she saw, in the corner of the classroom, the old wardrobe that held the Boggart, the Boggart Leslie hadn't been able to face until the last day of school.

Swallowing, Leslie entered the classroom, and approached the wardrobe slowly. For a while, she simply stared at it, remembering the previous year and the first time it had ever opened to her. Leslie felt tears stinging her eyes, and she tried to ignore them. She felt it was so foolish that she had ever been afraid of facing the image of her parents, even though Professor Lupin had told her the fear was legitimate, based on her past.

Leslie wondered to herself if her Boggart would be different now, if she opened up the wardrobe doors. She was no longer afraid of losing the life she had now, she wasn't afraid of losing Hermione, Ron, Harry, her grandmother or her life at Hogwarts. Things were different now, and yet, some things were the same.

She reached out and gently touched the wardrobe, feeling her stomach sink and her tears flow down her face, she began to wonder...

What would life have been like, with parents who loved her?

What would life have been like, with parents who wanted to share their life with her?

What would life have been like, if she had parents who approved of Hogwarts, who sent her off willingly, instead of Leslie having sneaking away to Hogwarts, and never hearing from her parents again?

She remembered that day in August three years ago when Hagrid had arrived at her house, when she was home alone in the evening, as she always was. She remembered the letter, and her parents denying anything about Hogwarts. In fact, they told her it was a joke, and to ignore it. But Hagrid had quickly proved that Hogwarts was real, and that Leslie was really a witch. The concept of leaving behind a home that had never been a home for her was not a hard decision for Leslie at all. She had simply left a note and followed Hagrid willingly. Her parents had never contacted her after that, nobody had gone looking for her, they had never cared. Their daughter simply walked out of their life, and they hadn't cared. They had simply forgotten her, and then they died.

_That_ was what Leslie was struggling with.

She cried as she stared at the wardrobe, questioning life, cursing it, _Whizbees, it's not fair!_

Leslie kicked the wardrobe as hard as she could in frustration and anger, as she reflected on her childhood.

"You're going to hurt yourself if you do that." A voice said from behind her. Leslie whipped around as she quickly wiped her face of her tears. Someone had been _watching_ her?

But the woman who had seen Leslie's fit was a woman she had never seen before. She was a younger woman, tall, with silky long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, a long, flowing velvet black robe, and large gold hooped earrings. More than that, Leslie noticed her expression. She looked worried. Leslie looked away, already feeling embarrassed.

"Are you alright?" The woman asked quietly, approaching Leslie carefully as she placed a small bag down on the ground. Her concerned eyes never left Leslie. Leslie looked away again, feeling her heart flutter nervously. This was the _last_ place she wanted to be. Who was this woman?

Leslie shrugged, and cleared her throat.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just..." Leslie couldn't think of anything to say. The woman came closer once again and bent down slightly so her gaze was level with Leslie. Leslie looked up.

"What's your name?" The woman asked, with a small reassuring smile.

"Leslie." Leslie replied.

"Why are you here at Hogwarts, Leslie? I'm new here, but I was under the impression that students didn't arrive at Hogwarts until September 1st." The woman pointed out. Leslie felt her heart skip a beat, but she simply nodded, too exhausted to come up with any lies.

"Yeah, they usually aren't, but these are, well, I guess these are special circumstances." She explained. The woman nodded and gave a wide smile.

"Oh, you must be Leslie _Perks, _McGonagall's granddaughter, right?" She asked. Leslie nodded with a small smile.

"Very nice, oh I'm sorry, how rude of me. You've introduced yourself, and I'm still a complete stranger." The woman extended her hand with a friendly smile. "I'm Cassandra Crims, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor." Leslie took her hand and shook it. Professor Crims was so gentle, so kind, Leslie was sure she had never met a professor like this before.

"It's nice to meet you, erm, Professor." Leslie looked away. "Anyway, I'd better go, you know, let you get settled and stuff."

Leslie took off, toward the door, feeling nothing but embarrassment for how she had been seen by her new professor. Caught crying and kicking a wardrobe. Leslie wanted to _die_ of embarrassment.

"Leslie?" Crims called all of a sudden. Leslie swallowed, as she stopped at the door. She turned around and looked at the new professor, who stared at her with those worried eyes again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked. Leslie stopped, and stared at the professor for a single second. The way she had asked, the way she looked at Leslie, Leslie could just tell, this woman actually cared. It was out of genuine concern that she asked, and Leslie couldn't remember the last time someone had asked her that. _Except for Mrs. Granger..._She shoved that thought aside.

Leslie simply nodded, and turned from the classroom. She breathed out slowly, wondering if Hermione knew any memory modifying spells. Leslie wanted to forget that embarrassing meeting for as long as she lived.

* * *

Leslie found her grandmother in her office, writing on pieces of parchment, while a line of owls waited to deliver McGonagall's school letters. Leslie sighed, as she entered the office, tapping on the door ever so silently. She hoped McGonagall was in a good mood. Sometimes, if McGonagall was busy, she was often short and snippy. Leslie was not in the mood for that today.

Luckily for Leslie, McGonagall offered a small smile and motioned Leslie to come in.

"Hello Leslie, how are you dear?" McGonagall looked up as Leslie entered the office. Her face dropped slightly. "Child, have you been weeping?" Leslie swallowed.

"No." She lied. "I just came to talk to you. We received our owls this afternoon. You didn't have to send owls to bring _our_ letters, you know? We're in the same castle." McGonagall nodded.

"Yes I know, but it's a habit of mine. I send these letters every year, and they all go with an owl. It would break my concentration if I had to stop and remember to hold four letters separate for children living at the castle. This doesn't happen very often, you understand." She explained, as she handed an envelope to a waiting barn owl. "Besides, don't you find it more fun to receive an owl?"

"I suppose." Leslie breathed out. "Right, well, when are you going to take us into Diagon Alley to get our new things?"

"Dear child, I don't have time for _that._ You four will have to go." McGonagall explained, never looking up from her work. Leslie's eyes widened.

"On our _own?_" Leslie asked. McGonagall stole a glance up and raised an eyebrow.

"Leslie, you four are entering your fourth year. You are _more _than capable of handling a trip to Diagon Alley. Just make sure you stick to your lists. Do not buy anything else but what is on your lists. You may go tomorrow." She reached into a drawer in her desk, and pulled out a small bag. She placed the bag gently at the edge of her desk.

"That should be enough gold to cover what's on your list, Leslie. But remember what I told you, _stick to the list!_ No need to be buying silly toys and gadgets and whatnot. You can use the Floo Network to get there. Be in my office tomorrow morning at nine." McGonagall explained. Leslie nodded, as she took the bag of gold.

"Thank you, Professor." She said quietly. McGonagall only nodded, as she continued to address the envelopes. Leslie breathed out, and turned from her grandmother, heading out of the classroom. However, she went in the opposite direction to get back to the common room. She didn't want to pass by the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom again.

* * *

Back in the Gryffindor common room, Harry and Ron had finished their chess game, and Hermione was back from the library with a fresh set of thick books. Leslie told them about their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, leaving out the bit about the wardrobe and the tears.

"Why is it that we have to have a new Defence professor every year? I swear, that post is cursed!" Ron pointed out.

"That's superstitious fancy, Ronald. Besides, this is only the fourth one." Hermione added.

"In _four years!_ Bloody hell, Hermione, that's one per year! Don't you think there's something a bit batty about that? First one went Deatheater on us, second one decided to teach Muggle Studies because Darts Arts were too dark, and third one left because he was afraid of Snape." Ron said.

"Ron, he wasn't afraid of Snape." Leslie corrected.

"Whatever, I bet you any amount of coin that this Crims character will leave at the end of the year." Ron said.

"You're so optimistic, Ron." Harry laughed. Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Mark my words..." He said. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to Leslie.

"So, what was she like?" She asked, eager to learn more about their new professor. Leslie paused, remembering her encounter with Professor Crims. Despite the fact that Leslie was embarrassed for how she had been seen, despite the fact that Leslie had run away quickly, not wanting to show her face in that classroom for as long as she lived, she couldn't help but remember the warmness and gentle character of Professor Crims. She had been genuinely concerned for Leslie.

Leslie shrugged.

"She's nice."


	6. Diagon Alley

"Hurry _up!_" Leslie shouted the next morning, nearly stomping her foot as she checked her bag for the hundredth time to make sure she had the bag of gold her grandmother gave her, as well as her supply list. They were there, just as they were ten seconds ago. Leslie sighed impatiently, as she stared at the stairs heading up to the boys' dormitory.

"Boys, we're going to be _late! _McGonagall said to be in her office by _nine!_ It's after nine, she's going to have a _fit!" _Leslie shouted.

"Kind of like the one you're having now?" Harry shouted back. Leslie felt her face getting hot. It was a good thing the stairs were charmed to keep girls from entering the boys' dormitory, or Harry would regret it very quickly.

"Ronald! Harry! Hurry _up!_ This isn't just about being in McGonagall's office on time, although you've ruined _that_ for us already. We want to get there before the crowds do. The _last_ thing I want to do is push my way through a ton of people." Hermione complained up the stairs.

"Why not? It's what we've done every _other_ year. Why should this year be any different?" Ron retorted from the top of the stairs.

Hermione huffed.

"Not only that, but I'd like to be back at Hogwarts at a fairly decent time, you know! I'm halfway finished _Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them_, and I was planning on getting that done today so I can start a new book." She yelled up the stairs. Leslie rolled her eyes, and could almost _feel_ Harry and Ron rolling theirs upstairs.

"If you two don't hurry up, I'll make it my personal duty to make sure McGonagall knows that it was _you two_ that made us late, and I will just sit back and laugh when she gives you two the third degree! You know better than to keep McGonagall waiting." Leslie threatened.

Finally, Ron and Harry ran down the stairs, avoiding the vicious glares they received from the girls.

Leslie still felt rather irritable from everything that had happened the previous day in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Whizbees, she thought coming to Hogwarts would erase all those dreadful memories of her parents, and the horrid feelings that went along with them, yet, it almost felt like they were plaguing her worse now. She hadn't been able to sleep properly the previous night, having nightmares about her parents, the Boggart, Mrs. Granger, Bellatrix Lestrange and the Cruciatus Curse. Everything just seemed to mesh together uncomfortably, and Leslie wasn't sure how much more she could take.

Which was probably a good reason why she felt at the edge of her temper that morning.

She glared at Harry and Ron as they quickly checked through their own bags.

"I have my list. Sorry it took so long, I couldn't find it." Harry pointed out, tucking the piece of parchment safely away. Leslie raised an eyebrow.

"You do realize they were sent to us _yesterday_, don't you?" She asked. Harry looked at her, but ignored her promptly. Ron was still scouring the Common Room.

"Has anyone seen it? It's a small black bag! Bloody hell, mum will kill me if I've lost the money she sent me." He complained, checking under sofas, in the fireplace, anywhere he hadn't already looked. Hermione grumbled as she grabbed the black bag that was sitting on the table.

"You mean this?" She asked impatiently. Ron looked up, and with a large grin, swept the bag from Hermione's hand.

"Thanks Hermione, you know, you can be quite helpful, when you _want_ to be." Ron said.

"Let's go!" Leslie said quickly, to keep Hermione from punching Ron in the face.

The four friends, finally ready, left the Gryffindor Common Room and headed toward McGonagall's office. Leslie grumbled to herself, as she picked up the pace a little. _How could McGonagall have _possible_ thought we were old enough to handle this on our own? _She paused, glancing at the boys. _The boys are completely incompetent. _

* * *

Moments later, the four friends wandered into McGonagall's office, who stared at them all with raised eyebrows, glancing at the cuckoo clock that hung on the wall. She cleared her throat disapprovingly.

"You're late." She said sternly, standing up. Leslie didn't say a word. She could have centered out the boys and blamed them for their unpunctuality, but she decided it would just be better to get this show on the road. McGonagall didn't appear to be expecting an explanation, she was simply stating the obvious.

"Now, as you will be going to Diagon Alley by _yourselves_, there are a few ground rules I expect you to follow." McGonagall said, assuming her usual stance she took when she began a lecture, arms behind back, posture straight. Leslie sighed. Rules, rules, rules. Would there ever be anything that didn't require _rules?_

"Despite the fact that I do believe you are all old enough to navigate Diagon Alley without adult supervision, there are still certain conditions that must be met for me to believe you will make it there and back in one piece. First of all, none of you are to spend your money on anything other than school supplies. You are only to go into shops that are necessary. There is no need for you to be checking out the latest models of broomsticks and so on. Stick to the list you've been given. Next, I expect you to return to Hogwarts no later than 3:00p.m. That should give you more than enough time to obtain your school supplies. Keep together, so as you do not get lost. Do _not _forget to get your robes sized again this year. You have all grown significantly in the last year. And above _all_ else, remember that you are representatives of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Do not act like children." McGonagall said, seemingly all in the same breath. All the four kids could do was nod. Leslie sighed. When did McGonagall become so strict?

For some strange reason, it made Leslie think of her parents again. They had never been strict. How could they have been? They never laid down any rules to be followed, because they were never around to enforce them. They let Leslie do anything she wanted. Leslie sighed. Why couldn't she have had parents who disciplined her properly? Like _normal_ parents? She crossed her arms without thinking.

"You alright, Leslie? Do you have a problem with these rules?" McGonagall said all of a sudden. Leslie snapped her head up, and realized McGonagall had picked up on her sudden change of character. She quickly shook her head.

"No, Professor, of course not. I'm fine, just a little tired." She lied, scratching her nose. McGonagall gave a quick nod, and pulled out her pot of Floo Powder.

"Right, then off you go. 3:00p.m." She reminded them, as they each grabbed a handful of powder and directed themselves to Diagon Alley by the Floo Network.

Leslie and Harry were the first to arrive in what appeared to be a small booth right in the center of Diagon Alley. As Leslie and Harry exited the booth, they stared at it, and realized it almost looked like a telephone booth. The whole street was lined with them. Harry shrugged.

"I suppose it makes sense, there must be dozens of witches and wizards who transport here by the Floo Network." He pointed out. Leslie nodded, but puckered her brow.

"Funny how you never notice these things when they aren't necessary. I don't recall ever seeing them before." She said, observing them for a moment.

As they waited for Ron and Hermione (they assumed the Floo Network was backed up with traffic), Harry glanced sideways at Leslie for a brief moment.

"Er, you alright Leslie?" Harry asked quietly. Leslie turned to stare at him. She smiled casually.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" She asked with a bit of a giggle. Harry didn't seem to buy it, as he still questioned her with his gaze. Leslie sighed. She knew of all people, Harry would be the one she could trust with her secret. She knew of all people, out of the entire world, Harry would be the one to understand the deep pain she felt. After all, he was an orphan as well. He didn't have parents either. He probably understand all too well the pain of watching other children with their parents, living a happy life, something they could never have, not like that.

"Harry, I-" Leslie started, but before she could say a single word, Ron and Hermione popped into the phone booth-like contraption. While Ron cursed under his breath, Leslie quickly glanced at Harry, as if to say she wanted to keep what was going on with her a secret. It wasn't something she wanted Ron and Hermione to know about. Even though Leslie hadn't told Harry anything, he seemed to understand, so he quickly dropped it.

"Bloody hell, mum's gonna _kill_ me if this doesn't come out!" Ron moped as he stared at his ashen sweater. It was only then that Leslie realized she was covered in soot. She laughed to herself as she realized she had forgotten about it.

"I'll take care of this." Harry said, scrunching up his nose as if trying to remember the spell. He pointed his wand to Leslie. "_Abluo Talaris_." Leslie clapped her hands proudly as the soot fell from her clothes.

"Great job Harry!" She applauded, performing the spell back to him. Once Ron and Hermione had cleaned themselves off (actually, Hermione cleaned both of them off), the four friends headed toward Gringotts, their first stop, so that Harry could get his money.

* * *

"You have your own vault?" Leslie asked, amazed at what she was hearing, as the four followed a goblin down into the depths of Gringotts. Harry just smiled.

"It's really not that big of a deal, Leslie. Most witches and wizards do. It's money my mum and dad left me, for school and stuff. This vault had just been sitting here for ten years until Hagrid brought me here right before I started Hogwarts." He explained. Leslie was too amazed for words, as they wove deeper and deeper into the caves of Gringotts. Leslie knew, without a doubt, that she would never be able to find her way back to this exact spot, no matter how much she had tried. She seemed to remember Professor Binns saying something about the impossible setup of the Gringotts bank, which was why it made it impossible to rob. Leslie understood.

Harry, Ron and Hermione waited in the trolley cart that brought them this far below the surface as Harry went into his vault to get his money. Leslie couldn't help but wonder to herself certain things. Harry's parents had left him money in their will, ensuring that upon their death, Harry would be well taken care of. Leslie's situation had been much different. When her parents died, nothing had been left to her. Nothing at all. She had been left all on her own. The only reason she had been able to purchase her school supplies her first year had been because she had a fair bit of money saved up, and was luckily able to convert her money into wizards gold.

But now she couldn't help but wonder, what would have happened had Leslie not had a grandmother waiting for her at Hogwarts? She never would have been able to return for a second year, she'd had no money. Harry, on the other hand, was set for life. His parents made sure of that. They loved him enough to ensure his security forever. Leslie's parents hadn't even made the effort.

Leslie sighed, as Harry returned to the cart with his pouch of gold. He looked over to Leslie, as the trolley started up again, and knew she was upset about something, but with Hermione and Ron right there with them, he decided not to press the issue.

* * *

The four friends ventured out into Diagon Alley, and began their school shopping. Their first stop was Pottidge's Cauldron Shop, which Ron immediately griped about.

"Why do we have to go here _first?"_ He whined. "Now we'll have to carry our cauldrons around _everywhere!"_ Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Be practical, Ronald. The cauldron is your largest purchase. Everything you buy after that you can put _in_ the cauldron. It makes the most sense." She explained, opening the door for her friends. Ron muttered something incomprehensible under his breath as Leslie pulled out her list to check what kind of cauldron they would need. She sighed.

"Pewter standard size 2. Same cauldron as every other year. It really is a shame, you know. I'm quite sure the Slytherins have never had to replace _their _cauldrons." She pointed out. Harry nodded.

"While we have to replace ours every year." He agreed.

"It's because bloody _Snape_ assigns Gryffindors the projects that burn holes straight through the bottom of the cauldrons. Do you remember the _Fever Potion_ he made us brew last term?" Ron asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's the _Fervesco Potion_." She corrected. "And you're right, Snape does seem to play favourites." Leslie shot her a glare.

"You've just noticed this _now?"_ She asked, as she grabbed a cauldron from a stack of standards, size 2, and passed one each to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

After they paid for their cauldrons, they continued their walk down Diagon Alley. The crowd had thickened a little since their arrival nearly an hour ago, but it hadn't become unbearable, yet. They knew Hermione would begin to make a fuss about it if it did.

They passed by Magical Menagerie, where Leslie remembered Hagrid bringing her Jinxie right before she began her first year, as a way of welcoming her to Hogwarts. Leslie stopped at the window, and stared at a beautiful collar, with a small advertizement beside it.

_The Cordis Collar For Cats_

_For only 3 Galleons, your cat can be the proud new owner of this brand new magical invention. For cat owners who are frustrated with their pet's sudden mood swings, the Cordis Collar shifts colors as quickly as your cat shifts moods. Yellow if your cat is content, purple if your cat is melancholy, red if your cat is angry, green if your cat is jealous, blue if your cat is sanguine and pink if your cat is playful. Never have to guess again. See inside for details._

Leslie smiled to herself as she stared at the beaded collar. She breathed out as Hermione joined her.

"What are you doing, Leslie? We should be continuing our shopping." She stated. Leslie pointed to the collar.

"Look at that, Hermione? Isn't it lovely? I'm sure Jinxie would appreciate the gift, and it might help me avoid getting scratched in the future. Jinxie can be quite vicious if I don't understand her moods. With this, I-"

Hermione glared at her.

"Your grandmother told us we were _only_ to buy school supplies, Leslie. Nothing else." She pointed out. Leslie looked up and glared back at Hermione.

"You sound just _like_ my grandmother." She said bitterly, as she walked away from the collar.

Next, they decided to have their robes sized. So they went to Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions first to have Harry's, Hermione's and Leslie's robes sized and taken care of, and then to the second hand robe shop so Ron could purchase a whole new set of robes, since he had grown the most. Ron turned pink around the ears when they walked into the second hand robe shop, but he quickly figured out his friends didn't care. They all knew Ron's family didn't have a lot of money, and they knew Ron was slightly embarrassed about it, but none of them ever gave him a hard time about it. Leslie complimented him on his choice of robes.

"Oh _please_ can we go to Flourish and Blotts next?" Hermione squeaked after they had finished with their robes. "We should get all our schoolbooks before the crowd really starts to pick up and the books will all be picked over." Leslie and her friends rolled her eyes, but agreed, mostly because they didn't want to spend hours in the bookstore in a line trying to purchase their schoolbooks. Hermione had a point about the crowd.

Leslie, Harry, and Ron got straight to work in the bookstore, pulling out their lists and picking out just the books they needed. Leslie rolled her eyes as she pulled out one of the textbooks Professor Wizzie had assigned.

"I really don't think she's over Snape at all." She pointed out. Harry puckered his brow.

"What makes you say that?" He asked curiously. Leslie needed only to lift up the textbook and Harry understood.

_Mishaps and Misery: The Madness of Muggle Romance._

"Bloody hell, is she _serious_?" Ron asked. Leslie groaned.

"This whole term is going to turn into a venting session! How much are we actually going to _learn_ about Muggles?" She asked. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Probably about the same amount we did last year." He pointed out. Leslie had to agree with Harry. Professor Wizzie wasn't exactly the best candidate for teaching about Muggles, she didn't know an awful lot about them, as Leslie remembered Wizzie's interesting theories about the origins of toothbrushes last year. She giggled to herself.

"Well at least our _Defence Against the Dark Arts _book looks interesting." Ron pointed out, holding it up.

_Defensive Strategies for the New Millennium_. Leslie looked down at the author.

"Hey, look who wrote it!" She pointed to the name.

"Cassandra L. Crims." Harry read out.

"Wait, isn't that-" Ron started.

"Our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Whizbees, we've never had a professor who's written our textbook before." Leslie said, beginning to flip through the book curiously. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Leslie, you're beginning to sound like Hermione." He pointed out. Leslie closed the book defensively, and peered over her shoulder.

"Where is Hermione anyway?" She wondered aloud.

The three friends, now fully equipped with all their textbooks, searched through the store until they found Hermione, hovering over a pile of books in the Advanced Magic section. Ron rolled his eyes and breathed out heavily.

"Hermione! Have you even _gotten_ your textbooks yet?" He asked. Hermione looked up, as though caught in a compromising position. She swallowed, and grinned awkwardly.

"Oh, um, yes, I was just on my way to get them, I just, um, well I saw this book, and-" She cleared her throat. Leslie shook her head.

"Unbelievable, Hermione. We have _tons_ more to do before we have to leave, and we _do_ have a curfew, remember? Seriously, you have a library _full_ of books at Hogwarts, and that isn't enough for you?" She asked. Hermione glared at her defensively.

"The Hogwarts library is not _nearly_ as stocked as it should be. Here, there are books far beyond the scope of what Hogwarts has to offer." She rebutted. Harry, Leslie and Ron simply stared at her, before she hung her head embarrassed, and went to collect her textbooks.


	7. Knockturn Alley

"I'm _not_ going to buy anything, Hermione, I just want to _look!_" Harry yelled as the four of them passed by Quality Quidditch Supplies. Hermione shook her head.

"Harry, you and Leslie are both going to go in there, and never come out. You're both ridiculously addicted to Quidditch." She scorned. Harry glared at her.

"What, like you are ridiculously addicted to books? Come on! We let you spend your fair share of time in Flourish and Blotts!" He argued.

"McGonagall told us not to spend any money other than what we needed for school." Hermione lectured.

"I'm_ not_ planning on buying anything!" Harry shouted.

"One look at the newest model of broomstick, and you'll be _flying_ your way back to Hogwarts. Face it, Harry, you won't be able to leave without buying something!" Hermione shot back.

Leslie was hardly listening anymore. Something had caught her attention that she hadn't seen before, not during any of her trips here to Diagon Alley. It appeared to be a small alleyway, veering off from Diagon Alley, down a small, darkened street on its own. Leslie puckered her brow. Were there more shops down there she hadn't known about? It must be an extension of Diagon Alley.

Curious, she turned to inquire about the strange alleyway with her friends, but they were too busy arguing.

"Hermione, be realistic, why would Harry buy another broomstick? He's already got a decent one!" Ron shot, edging his way into the argument.

"New broomsticks are designed every year! Why _wouldn't_ he want one? All he has to do is lay eyes on one and it will be a lost cause. Honestly Ronald, with _you_ there, you'll just encourage him!" Hermione argued. Leslie sighed, knowing they weren't going to be paying attention to her anytime soon. She turned away from them, and headed toward the opening that led to a second alley.

Harry, Hermione and Ron hadn't noticed her absence.

That was when she saw the street sign hovering over the entrance to the alleyway. Knockturn Alley. Leslie shrugged to herself. So it wasn't _exactly_ Diagon Alley, but it still must be similar. It looked as though there were shops down this street as well. Leslie couldn't help but find herself curious. What had they been missing out on all these years?

As she wandered down the darkened road, she unconsciously lifted her head up toward the sky. Had it gotten darker? The sun was out only moments ago. Why did it seem so much darker down here? So much more damp, and almost frightening.

Leslie swallowed as she ventured further. She began to feel uncomfortable as she tried to look into the windows of some of the shops, but the windows were all blacked out. She swallowed, not wanting to know what was in these shops any longer.

The witches and wizards hovering on the street corners all stared at her with a newfound curiosity and hunger. Leslie swallowed as they began to approach her, touching her shoulder, smoothing her hair with their calloused hands, and laughing in shrill voices.

"You lost, little girl?" One asked.

"We can help you." Another replied.

"Long way from home now, ain't ya?" Another added.

Leslie swallowed, and backed away from them all, feeling frightened and nervous. Everything about this alley was wrong, as she quickly realized this alleyway was different from Diagon Alley. Knockturn Alley was more about dark arts, Leslie could_ sense_ it. She wanted to get out of here.

She quickly turned around to run back toward Diagon Alley, and her friends, when she bumped into a tall figure, who was standing right in front of her. As Leslie rubbed her nose, she looked up and felt her heart skip a beat. She felt her heart thumping against her chest, but she forced herself to put on a brave face. For the man standing in front of her, glaring down at her with a face made of stone, was Lucius Malfoy. Leslie glared back at him, feeling afraid, but forcing herself to remember the hatred she felt for this man. This man was responsible for Tenille having to go into hiding, because she had been placed under the Imperius Curse by _this_ man. This man was responsible for the death of Christopher Kedavra. _That_ was on this man's hands. Leslie breathed out.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way." Leslie said, gritting her teeth together, as her fists clenched together so tightly, she could feel her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. Lucius simply sneered.

"You really are in no position to speak to me that way, you know. A pure-blooded wizard as myself deserves respect, especially from a Mudblood child, no less." He said in his unusually calm voice, but laced with evil. Leslie never dropped her gaze.

"I'll speak to you any way I please! Have you forgotten that I know the truth about what you did? Who you killed? You so obviously pointed out to me that I can't prove it, and perhaps I can't, but _one_ day, Mr. Malfoy, mark my words, you will_ pay_ for what you did, and you will rot in Azkaban for the rest of your life because of it." She said, bravely and without her voice quavering. She felt nothing but pure anger and hatred for this man, not fear. True, she knew what he was capable of, she knew he was a Death Eater, but her bravery won out over fear today. He was responsible for the two friends she had lost during her second year, and it was unfair he had never been punished for it.

Lucius simply stared at her, his expression never changing. She narrowed her eyebrows once at the man, and then walked past him, heading back to Diagon Alley.

She felt a rush of pain surge through her arm, as Lucius had grabbed a tight hold of her arm, pulled her back up against him, and leaned down so their faces were nearly touching. Leslie stared at him, feeling her nerves kicking in, and her breathing became more rapid, but she continued to hold her glare at the man, as his calm demeanor had quickly faded.

"How dare you speak to me like that, you filthy little _Mudblood!_ You should be _dead_ right now! After all the meddling you've done, after all the meddling you and your _friends_ have done, you should have been killed long ago! You are a nuisance to us all, and Bellatrix should have finished you off when she had a chance. For the last three years, you have done nothing but played a hand in postponing the one thing we have been striving toward, the return of the Dark Lord. Because of you and your meddling sidekicks, the Dark Lord has not returned to full power!" Lucius pulled Leslie even closer, causing Leslie to wince, as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I would kill you myself, right here, right now, if the Dark Lord didn't require you for his purposes."

Leslie stared at him wide-eyed, forgetting her brave face as she tried to weigh the words he had just said. He continued to stare at her, before he released her and resumed his height, flashing a smile.

"Have a good year, Ms. Perks." He said loud enough for everyone to hear, and with that, he walked away, further down into Knockturn Alley.

Leslie let out a long breath as she stared after him, dumbfounded and heart racing.

She turned away from Knockturn Alley, and ran as fast as she could back to the brightness of Diagon Alley, where the sun mysteriously seemed to return. Trying to catch her breath, she sprinted over to her friends, who were still standing outside of Quality Quidditch Supplies. When they saw her approaching, flashes of relief showed in their expressions. Leslie stopped, and rested her hands on her knees to try and catch her breath.

"Where on _earth_ did you go? One minute you were here, and the next you just took off! Didn't you hear your grandmother, Leslie? We were _supposed_ to stick together!" Hermione lectured. Leslie shook her head, breathing heavily.

"That's not important right now." She said urgently, and immediately, Ron, Harry and Hermione picked up on the fact that something was wrong, very wrong.

* * *

As the four friends sat at a small table at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Leslie quickly explained her encounter with Lucius Malfoy in Knockturn Alley.

"You went to Knockturn Alley? Are you bloody _insane?"_ Ron asked, in a hushed whisper. Harry and Hermione ignored him as they stared at Leslie seriously.

"He threatened you?" Harry asked, feeling protective and staring in the direction of Knockturn Alley. Leslie breathed out.

"Yes, so you know, I was thinking. We could to go Dumbledore and have him do the same thing he did last time, when he extracted our memories about what happened on the Isle of the Black Fog. Then we could convict Malfoy and send him to Azkaban! I mean, then the Ministry would hear _everything_ Malfoy said to me!" She said rather loudly, as she stared at Hermione for verification.

But Hermione's expression didn't exactly scream agreement. Leslie frowned.

"What?" She asked.

"That can't happen, Leslie." Hermione replied quietly. Leslie narrowed her eyebrows.

"Why not? He _threatened_ me! He told me that Voldemort was planning on using me for his purposes! Isn't that something that needs to be reported!?!" She screamed, feeling her fears amplify. Hermione sighed.

"The Ministry only accepts eye-witness memories if more than one person has had them, especially when they're under the age of 17. The Ministry doesn't take the testimony of a child to be plausible." She explained. "The only way it would work is if you could somehow extract Lucius's memory, which can't be done by force unless there's a warrant. That can't happen unless the Ministry has cause to believe something is seriously wrong. Besides, Malfoy is rich, he could easily pay off anybody who tried to extract information from him."

Leslie sighed, leaning back against her chair angrily.

"Whizbees, I hate being a child!" She complained. "This man is a murderer and a Death Eater, and because the Ministry is so _stupid_ and won't believe the word of a child, he's walking _free!_" Hermione breathed out.

"Don't worry Leslie. Whatever Malfoy was saying about You-Know-Who needing you for his purposes, well, I'm sure he was just saying that to frighten you. It's probably nothing." She explained. Leslie leaned forward, raising an eyebrow.

"If it was nothing, why didn't he just kill me right there in Knockturn Alley? He didn't kill me because Voldemort needs me for something else!" She snapped, feeling as though she knew what Voldemort wanted. Harry had said it at the Black Lake last year. _"Voldemort isn't going to give up on me. He's been trying to kill me since he killed my parents. He's only going to keep trying until he gets me, and he'll use what I care about the most to get to me."_ Leslie sighed. Was Voldemort after Harry again? Would he try and use Leslie as bait once again? She tried not to think about it, and she _especially _didn't bring it up. It would only cause Harry to feel bad. Instead, Leslie just sighed.

"I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm safe at Hogwarts, at least. I suppose we'll just have to be extra careful when we go into Hogsmeade for our class trips." She said, poking wastefully at her ice cream. She could feel Harry's penetrating stare. She looked up, and he smiled at her.

"Don't worry, Leslie." He paused. "Whatever's going on, I'll protect you. You have my word on that."

Leslie felt her cheeks growing pink, as she immediately looked back down at her ice cream. Truly, she had no need to worry, did she? Hogwarts was the safest place she could be, and she was surrounded by her wonderful friends, who would do anything to protect her. No matter what, or who was after her, Leslie felt safe.


	8. A Big Birthday

Leslie had been having trouble sleeping.

She knew she had no reason to be frightened, especially under Hogwarts' roof, but she couldn't erase Lucius Malfoy's threats from her mind. It had been nearly two weeks since her encounter with the man in Knockturn Alley, and she hadn't been able to sleep properly since. She tried to forget about it, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw those menacing eyes penetrating her, and that awful voice threatening her. Only Hermione knew she wasn't sleeping right, because she could hear Leslie tossing and turning all night.

"You should tell your grandmother what happened." Hermione told her one night. But Leslie shook her head.

"I don't want to worry her." She replied.

"But _you're_ worried!"

"It doesn't matter. And besides, it's _stupid_ for me to worry, what with Hogwarts being the safest place I could be." Leslie couldn't even convince herself. Sighing to herself, she had closed her eyes tightly, wishing for sleep to come, hoping to wipe away those awful memories of Knockturn Alley.

"Mum and dad are worried, you know." Hermione said suddenly. Leslie's eyes shot open then.

"You _told_ them?" She spat. Hermione nodded sheepishly.

"They wrote me and asked how you were doing, and they told me to tell them the truth, no matter what you said." Hermione had turned to her. "Mum knows you're hiding something from her. From me. The way you've grown away from her is evidence of that."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hermione, so leave it alone." Leslie had closed her eyes again. "And tell your mum I'm _fine!"_

But the truth was, she wasn't fine. Not only was she worried about Voldemort, and Death Eaters, and threats on her life, she was still plagued with horrible memories from her childhood and the looming sadness that she had always been an orphan, even when she had had parents. She began to think she had been foolish to believe that coming to Hogwarts would make a difference. It didn't. Ron and Hermione wrote to their parents all the time. Leslie hated it.

* * *

The morning of her 14th birthday had come without warning, and Leslie slept in. Hermione let her sleep, as she had been up half the night, tossing and turning about. When Leslie finally woke up, she peered around the dormitory and realized Hermione was no longer there.

Yawning, and dressing quickly, Leslie groggily made her way down to the common room to see if she could find her friends. She expected she would find a giant banner up, and gold and red balloons scattered everywhere for her birthday, but she found the room empty, no decorations, and no friends. She puckered her brow, and felt her stomach sink. _That's odd._ She thought to herself, feeling somewhat disappointed. _Have they forgotten my birthday?_ She thought sadly.

She checked her watch. Surely, the boys wouldn't still be asleep. They were lazy, but not _that_ lazy.

_Then again, neither am I most of the time._ She thought, feeling ashamed for sleeping in so late.

Feeling tears in her eyes, believing her friends had forgotten her birthday, and gone off to do other things, she went to sit in front of the fire, when she noticed a piece of parchment on one of the tables. Sighing to herself, she picked it up and immediately noticed Ron's scratchy penmanship.

_Went to play Quidditch. Come and join us._

Leslie dropped the paper, sighing heavily. _Why would they decide to play Quidditch instead of meeting me for my birthday._ Thinking it wasn't like her friends to ditch her like that, she headed toward the Quidditch Pitch, feeling slightly suspicious. She expected she would just find Hermione, Ron and Harry flying around on broomsticks, but on her birthday?

Leslie headed down all the hallways at a slow pace, feeling rather gloomy.

She couldn't remember the last time she had slept decently. She couldn't wait for the day Azkaban arrested Lucius Malfoy, and then she would never have to worry about him, or Voldemort again.

At least, it was nice to imagine that were true.

She headed down the Hogwarts front steps and walked toward the Quidditch field. She shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked ahead, and saw that the Quidditch Pitch was empty.

Feeling anger and more disappointment bubbling to the surface, she continued on to the field, expecting she might find them in the air, or behind one of the game stands, but when she arrived on the Pitch, there was nobody in sight. She crossed her arms, feeling rather bitter. She was just about to turn to head back to the castle, when everything happened all at once.

In a blink of the eye, the Quidditch Pitch was no longer empty, nor silent! Trumpets sounded, noisemakers went off, music played. Sparks flew, fireworks flashed in the sky, balloons dropped onto the field. Tables of food and gifts appeared alongside the Pitch, and a giant banner hunt from the stands that read, "Happy Birthday Leslie." And in the middle of all this amazement, Leslie saw them. Harry, Hermione and Ron, all waving streamers in the air, as they, and everyone else surrounding them, cheered for Leslie's 14th birthday.

Leslie laughed aloud when she saw all the guests. Of course, Professor McGonagall was there, but so were all of the Weasley children, Arthur and Molly, and all of the Hogwarts professors as well (although Leslie didn't see Snape among the crowd). Leslie blushed with a grin as everybody clapped and shouted their congratulations.

Leslie remained frozen to the ground, so Harry, Hermione and Ron approached her, clapping her on the back, hugging her and shaking her hand.

"Snap out of it Leslie, you look like your eyes are going to fall out of their sockets." Harry laughed. Leslie finally turned and looked at him, and then at Hermione and Ron. She let out a giggle.

"How long have you been planning all this?" She gestured to all the decorations and guests, still amazed at what she was seeing. Hermione shook her head with a smile.

"We didn't plan anything." She admitted. "This was all McGonagall's doing." Leslie's eyes widened, as she turned from her friends to look at her grandmother, who was speaking with Professor Wizzie. Leslie smiled to herself, as McGonagall turned and gave her a small smile. Leslie breathed out happily. Sometimes, McGonagall was just full of surprises.

* * *

It didn't take long before everyone began to approach Leslie to give her birthday wishes.

"Congratulations, my dear. I expect now that you are 14, you are ready for fourth year Charms?" Professor Flitwick asked, as Leslie had to squat to shake his hand. Leslie smiled.

"Yes, Professor, all set." She agreed.

"Do yeh remember yer 11th birthday, Leslie?" Hagrid asked, when he approached. He was the one who had to squat to reach Leslie. Leslie laughed.

"Yes Hagrid, you came to my house and told me I was a witch. That's a memory I could never forgot. You scared the living daylights out of me then." She admitted. Hagrid grunted a laugh.

"I can have that effect on some people, y'know." He seemed to be bragging.

Wizzie looked down as usual. The four friends had gotten used to her melancholy attitude, and were still worried about what the fall term would hold for Muggle Studies with a depressed professor.

"Happy birthday, Leslie." Wizzie said, with the best smile she could come up with. Leslie didn't think it was very convincing.

"Er, thanks Professor. Thank you for coming." She said politely.

"Oh, it's good for me to be with people, you know? Much better than sitting in my office all day...staring at...-oh never mind, ignore me, dear. It's just been one of those days." With that, Wizzie walked away. Leslie sighed to herself. _She's having a lot of 'those days.'_

"Are you enjoying your party, my dear?" Professor McGonagall asked, as she approached Leslie. Leslie smiled.

"Yes, it's wonderful, thank you _so_ much, Professor. It's amazing!" She replied. McGonagall gave her a smile, and left.

Professor Crims approached her next.

Leslie couldn't help but feel herself blushing. For the most part, Leslie had tried to avoid the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor over the last couple of weeks, still remembering that horrid first meeting. Now, she was at her party. _Whizbees, why me?_

But Professor Crims extended her arms, enveloping Leslie into a tight, but gentle embrace. Leslie was taken by surprise.

"Happy birthday, Leslie. 14 years old is such a special age, so I congratulate you." Crims said with a grin. Leslie cleared her throat.

"Thank you, Professor. That's very kind of you." She replied. Crims continued to smile.

"How are you doing these days, Leslie?" She asked, but her voice held a hint of concern, on top of excitement. Leslie flashed a smile, and began to lie.

"I'm wonderful, thank you Professor." She said. Crims stared at her for a moment, as though trying to figure out whether or not this was the truth. But finally, Crims offered another wide smile.

"I hope you have a wonderful party, Leslie. You deserve a fun time." With a squeeze for Leslie's shoulder, Crims glided away toward the snack table. Leslie sighed out loud. _She's so nice._ She pondered to herself. _I wonder why._ Leslie mentally wanted to slap herself. _There is such a thing as nice people! _She scolded herself.

That was when she realized the Grangers were here.

Leslie felt her stomach drop.

How could they be here? How could Hermione-, oh, but she wouldn't. McGonagall planned the party, and she didn't know Leslie was having issues with them.

Mrs. Granger caught Leslie's eye, and with a smile, she gestured to Mr. Granger, who was talking with Professor Dumbledore. Leslie took her opportunity to duck out of sight while Mrs. Granger was trying to round up her husband. When Mrs. Granger turned back, Leslie was gone.

* * *

Moments later, Professor McGonagall announced it was time for Leslie to open her gifts. Everybody found a spot to sit on the Quidditch Pitch, and Leslie joined her four friends, as the gifts were handed to her, one by one. Hermione made sure to keep all the cards for Leslie.

The first gift Leslie opened was from Hermione. She knew it was Hermione's gift before she even tore off the paper - Hermione was so meticulous about wrapping gifts, always so neat. Leslie ripped open the gift (Hermione rolled her eyes), and found a CD player, a Muggle CD player. Leslie smiled, thankful for something she recognized. She thanked Hermione, and had to tell Ron she'd explain to him later how it worked, for he was absolutely fascinated by it, and he and his dad spent the next little while turning it over and over, trying to understand how it could work without magic.

Then she opened Harry's gift. She found Quidditch goggles inside the box, and grew excited immediately. Now she could play Quidditch when it rained, and wouldn't bang into the posts, or get hit with the Bludgers. She'd be able to see where she was going. She thanked Harry immensely.

"Well, it's for the team too, I suppose. It's not very helpful when you run into things." He explained. Leslie thanked Hermione for smacking him.

Ron gave Leslie a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans.

"They've added a new flavour this year too!" Ron said excitedly, pointing to the back of the box. "Look! Broccoli Soup!" Leslie felt herself wanting to gag. Honestly, she wondered what the inventors of the candy were _thinking._

She opened Professor McGonagall's next, and found a simple silver bracelet, with three charms on it. Leslie puckered her brow, as McGonagall came to join her. She took the bracelet out of its box and began to explain.

"I've been collecting charms for you ever since you arrived at Hogwarts three years ago, Leslie." McGonagall began. "I wanted to wait to give it to you until you reached the halfway point of your time here at Hogwarts. Now that you're entering your fourth year, I suppose it's time you received it.

"The first charm is for your first year here at Hogwarts." McGonagall pointed to the small charm that was in the shape of a bracelet that looked oddly familiar to Leslie. "Do you remember the bracelet you received for Christmas that year? The one you didn't know who it was from? Well, that was the bracelet that your great grandmother passed on to me, that I passed on to you. It was that bracelet that channeled your great grandmother's spirit, and helped you in a time of tire need. It was also that bracelet that led you to knowing who I was.

"The second charm is for your second year." She fingered a small charm in the shape of a broomstick. Leslie began to blush, remembering this all too clearly. "This one is to represent your first broomstick, and the bit of trouble you got yourself into. Do not think this means I encourage you to fly your broomstick, but it was a milestone for you. Your first broomstick.

"The third charm is for your third year." Leslie didn't even need an explanation. She recognized the shape of the charm as a wardrobe. She sighed to herself. "This represents the Boggart you faced, as well as everything else that went along with that. At first, I suspected I would make the charm about Quidditch, since it was your first year on the Quidditch team, but after all, I believe overcoming your fears are more important than playing Quidditch." Leslie smiled to herself as she took the charm from her grandmother.

"Thank you, Professor." She put it on her wrist. "It's perfect."

The gifts continued to make their way over to her.

The next gift was from Professor Wizzie, which Leslie was surprised to receive. She hadn't expected any gifts from the professors, but when she opened it, she found a jump rope, not a magical one, but a regular, Muggle one. Wizzie piped up immediately, in that monotone voice that was so odd to hear.

"You know, theorists say Muggles use them as a means of transportation." She began. "They presume that if they jump high enough and long enough with this rope, they will be able to fly to the moon and back." Leslie sighed to herself, sharing a glance with Harry and Hermione. Once Wizzie was out of earshot, Leslie leaned over to her friends.

"Not only is she wrong about the Muggle skipping rope, but has she forgotten I've turned 14?" She giggled, as she placed the jump rope. She was grateful for the thought.

Next came a gift that was signed by Professor Crims. Leslie puckered her brow, looking up to see Crims nodding her head encouragingly. Leslie tilted her head as she stared at the package. She had been surprised to receive a gift from Wizzie, but Crims?

She opened it up and found a charmed snow globe that had a model of the Hogwarts castle on the inside.

"It's charmed to show what the weather is like outside." Crims explained, as Leslie looked at it, utterly baffled. She shook her head and looked up.

"You didn't have to..." She didn't even know how to finish that. Crims just shrugged casually.

"I can't help it," Crims said with a bashful smile, "I love birthdays! And besides, we've already met, so that makes us friends, doesn't it?" Crims gave her a wink, and Leslie smiled, as she stared at her snow globe. Maybe Crims wasn't so bad after all. She didn't even seem to remember her first meeting with Leslie. Maybe Leslie could just forget the whole thing ever happened. Crims seemed nice.

Leslie's last gift was from the Grangers. She almost didn't want to open it, but everybody was watching. She didn't want to make a scene.

She opened the gift and found a picture frame, holding a photo of herself with Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Granger from last Christmas. Leslie stared at it for a moment, before she felt hot tears welling behind her eyelids. Family. She couldn't take it.

Leslie managed to squeak out a thank you to everyone who was around, and as everyone lined up at the table to be served cake and ice cream, Leslie snuck away, the fresh tears freely falling down her cheeks.

She picked up the pace when she was far enough away from the crowd not to be seen. The tears flew off her face as the wind blew hard against her. She couldn't take this anymore! It was unfair! How could they give her a picture like that, and act like everything was alright? For Leslie, it was a painful reminder that she was not a part of that family. Blood tied the other three together, Leslie was simply the outcast. She hated them for it.

Leslie dropped to her knees at the shore of the Black Lake, and cupped her hands over her face, desperate to silence her sobs. She felt so embarrassed about crying over something so stupid, and she wondered how long it would take for everyone to notice her absence.

She realized it had already been noticed.

"Leslie?"

Leslie froze, as she recognized Harry's voice. He must have seen her leave, and followed her out here.

Leslie cleared her throat.

"Yeah." She managed, scrubbing her tears away with her arm as Harry joined her. He was silent for a moment, and never looked over at her. He hated to see her cry. It tore him apart.

"I...I saw you leave the party. You looked upset." He paused. "What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something's wrong?" Leslie asked, feeling rather stupid. _I'm sitting by the Black Lake crying. Of _course_ something's wrong. Crabbe and Goyle could have figured that much out._

"Because something's been up with you since my birthday party at the end of July. I thought you would tell me when we got to Diagon Alley, but then Hermione and Ron showed up." Harry looked over awkwardly. "So why don't you tell me now?"

Leslie stared at him, sensing his concern, and suddenly not feeling so foolish. Harry would understand - he'd be the one person that would. He knew what it was to be an orphan, to go through life without parents, to feel that tinge of jealousy and pain whenever they saw kids with their parents, happy and carefree. Harry knew as well as Leslie did, and so she began to speak.

"It's just not fair, Harry." She said quietly. "It's not fair that everyone has such wonderful parents. Ron, Hermione. It's not fair they can have that, and I had to be stuck with parents who never even loved me. Now, I'm just nothing more than a stupid, forgotten orphan who doesn't even miss her parents. Harry, I'm just so _sick and tired_ of having to be around people and their parents! Like when I see Ron with his mum and dad, and _especially_ when I see Hermione with her mum and dad. It's a constant reminder to me of what I am, and what I never had." Leslie was crying again, and she hadn't intended for that to happen. Strangely, she no longer felt ashamed. Harry was safe, he was there for her.

She felt his warm hand on her shoulder after a moment, and she looked up to meet his green eyes levelly. He only nodded.

"I know, Leslie. I know what you mean." He paused, looking out at the Black Lake. "I feel the same way, every now and again. Just...wishing..."

Leslie followed his gaze and stared at the water as well. Neither of them said a word for what seemed like a long time after, but time seemed to stand still for them. The silence wasn't awkward or heavy, it was just Harry and Leslie together. And between the two of them, they shared something that Hermione and Ron could never understand. And that brought Harry and Leslie closer, even in the silence.

After what seemed like a long time, Leslie decided to break the silence. She didn't want to, it was nice just to be silent, but she desperately wanted to change the subject, so she could stop thinking about everything.

"Harry, I've been meaning to ask you." She paused, knowing this was a sensitive issue for Harry. "Have you...I mean, I wondered if you had thought about writing a letter back to Sirius Black." She waited, expecting Harry to grow defensive, or upset. Last year, Harry had found out that a man named Sirius Black was his godfather, but had been falsely arrested for the murder of many Muggles, but it was soon discovered by Leslie and her friends that a Deatheater named Pettigrew had been behind those murders, and framed Sirius for it. Sirius was freed from Azkaban, and promptly wrote to Harry at the end of their third year, but Harry hadn't been ready to write back. At one time, he believed Sirius Black to be the man responsible for the deaths of his parents, and held a lot of anger toward the man. Leslie knew writing that letter would take time, but Harry quickly looked at her and smiled a little.

"I've actually already wrote it." He replied. "I've had it written for a while now, but I've...just never had the guts to send it."

"Can I read it?" Leslie asked curiously. Harry nodded, and reached into his pocket for the piece of parchment that was folded over four neat times. She unfolded it and began to read.

_Sirius,_

_Sorry it took me so long to write back. Had a lot to think about._

_I'm glad you're out of Azkaban. It wasn't fair what Pettigrew did for you, and it's not fair he managed to escape. _

_I should like it very much to meet you. I hope you are enjoying freedom._

_Harry Potter_

Leslie smiled.

"It's great, Harry." She said.

"You don't think it's too short?" He asked. She shook her head.

"No, it's perfect." She looked up toward the Gryffindor tower and had a thought. She smiled to herself.

"I think you should send it. Right now." She shrugged. "Otherwise, Sirius will start to think you want nothing to do with him. It has been two months, after all." She pointed out. Harry shrugged as his face turned pink.

"Yeah," He sighed, "I suppose you're right." Leslie smiled playfully.

"I'm always right."

* * *

Harry attached the folded piece of parchment to Hedwig's leg and sent her flying out of the common room's window. Leslie smiled, as she watched Hedwig fly off toward the horizon. She looked over at Harry, whose eyes never left the snow owl. She patted his arm.

"It's alright, Harry. You did the right thing." She said quietly. He nodded.

"I know, it's just weird." He admitted. Leslie nodded, as the two turned their attention back toward the window. They looked down and saw the Quidditch Pitch off in the distance. It looked like people were beginning to leave the party. Leslie suddenly felt guilty for leaving in the middle of her _own_ party, but she was where she wanted to be.

"Thanks, Harry." She said quietly. Harry turned and stared at her, tilting his head, bewildered.

"For what?" He asked. She looked back out the window, and cringed when she saw Mrs. Granger lean down to give Hermione a hug and kiss.

"For being there for me." She said quietly, feeling another tear in her eye. She became aware of Harry's hand on her arm. She turned to stare at him. He looked at her as though what he was going to say meant everything.

"I'm never going to leave you, Leslie," He said, and his lips curved into a small smile, "Not again."

Leslie stared at him as he smiled at her.

"Happy Birthday, Leslie."

She turned from the scene on the Quidditch Pitch and wrapped her arms around Harry, her friend, her confidant. She knew he was right. He was never going to leave her. She could rest in that promise, and feel safe.


	9. The Feast

For most of the next day, Leslie and Harry flew their broomsticks around the Quidditch pitch, tossing a Quaffle, avoiding Bludgers, catching the Snitch, and working on landings. It was the last time they would get to play on the pitch by themselves. Hogwarts students would be arriving at dinnertime, and that meant the term would begin. The children would be busy with schoolwork and Quidditch practice. There would be no time for this anymore. It saddened Leslie. This was where she was the happiest. At Hogwarts, playing Quidditch, with Harry.

Leslie had been avoiding Hermione for most of the day. She knew Hermione was trying to get a chance to talk with her. Ever since she had run from her birthday party the day before, Hermione had been wanting to talk to her about what was wrong. Last night, when the girls were falling asleep in the dormitory, Hermione had tried asking.

"Leslie, was everything okay today?" She had asked. Leslie lied, happy it was dark, for she had tears in her eyes.

"Yes, of course. It was a great party." She replied quietly.

"It was. It's just that...mum said she wanted to go over to give you a birthday hug, and you disappeared. Nobody saw you for the rest of the party." Hermione pointed out. Leslie sighed. _Quick, think._ She spat out the first lie that came to mind.

"Oh that. Well, I wasn't feeling so well, so I ducked out. Needed to lie down, you know? My stomach was just a bit off." Leslie was convinced Hermione didn't buy it, but it was better than telling Hermione the truth. _Oh yes Hermione, I ran away because I can't stand to be around your mum and dad right now. Terribly sorry, alright then, let's jump rope._

* * *

Leslie was hardly keeping an eye on the time, as she did a few laps around the Quidditch field, trying to beat Harry. He had always been faster than her, and just once, she wanted to beat him, but as he lapped her for the third time, she gave up any hope of ever achieving that goal.

"Harry, what do you think the team will be like without Wood?" Leslie asked, after they landed their brooms (Leslie fifteen feet away from Harry). Harry shrugged.

"Dunno. Maybe it won't be as strict. Maybe we won't have late night practices, or early morning practices. Guess it depends on who's captain." He replied. Leslie nodded, glancing at her watch. Her eyes widened.

"Whizbees, Harry, we were supposed to meet McGonagall in her office five minutes ago!" She cried. Harry's face paled, and the two ran at full speed back toward the Hogwarts castle. If they had been thinking clearly, they could have flown their broomsticks to the castle at least. It would have saved them time.

Leslie wasn't thinking clearly. McGonagall had impressed upon the four children the grave importance of promptness for tonight, because it was critical that the students arriving at Hogwarts that evening believed Leslie and her friends were arriving on the Hogwarts Express, just like the rest of them. There could be no suspicion of their summer holidays being spent at the castle. McGonagall had constructed a detailed plan to ensure everything went smoothly, but it all rested on the four children being on time.

Now, they were running late.

_McGonagall's going to kill me._ Leslie sighed, as they ran up the front steps of the castle, and through the winding corridors toward McGonagall's office. _Why would I play Quidditch before this? I never keep track of the time when I'm playing Quidditch._

Finally, they arrived in McGonagall's office, panting for breath, sweat running down their brows as Leslie managed to catch a quick glance at McGonagall's strained expression.

"Professor, I-"

"There is no time for that." McGonagall snapped, pulling out her wand. "I see you have not changed into your school robes either." Disapprovingly, McGonagall raised her wand.

"_Converto talaris_." She said quickly, and Leslie and Harry were in their school robes, with the Gryffindor crest. McGonagall then spoke quickly.

"Now then, you know the drill. You will take the Floo Network to Hogsmeade, where the train is now stopping. Then you will travel with the rest of the students by carriage to Hogwarts. The students will believe you have been on the train the whole time, because I have placed a charm on one of the cars to make it appear the four of you were sleeping the whole trip. Not a word to anybody about being at Hogwarts this summer." McGonagall grabbed a pot of Floo Powder, and held it out. "Off you go."

Leslie sighed, as she stepped forward, taking a quick handful, and stepping into the fireplace without delay. There was no crossing her grandmother, especially when she was already displeased. There was nothing better to do but to obey.

"Hogsmeade!" Leslie shouted, throwing down the Floo Powder. Moments later, she was stepping out of a fireplace on the side of the wall at the Hogsmeade train station. She noticed Ron and Hermione were already there, as she performed the spell to clean the ashes off her robes. Hermione rolled her eyes, as Harry arrived.

"Late! Of all the times to be late!" She scolded, as Leslie noticed the Hogwarts Express doors opening and students stepping out.

"Come on, we need to blend in so nobody will suspect we were already here." Hermione said, her tone a little irritated. Leslie, Harry and Ron followed her briskly, and Leslie suspected Hermione was not just irritated by their tardiness. Leslie expected she was still bothered by Leslie's disappearance yesterday, and the fact that she was clearly lying about the whole thing. Hermione wasn't stupid. She was the smartest girl Leslie knew. She was smart enough to realize a lie when she heard one - especially one told by her best friend.

Leslie forgot all of that as the Hogwarts students began to fill the Hogsmeade train station. She smiled to herself, glad the castle would soon be filled with bustling activity and schoolwork. She had missed her friends, she had missed Hogwarts, and it was good to see it coming back to life in the simplicity of a train station. True, it had been something unique and wonderful for the four friends to have the entire castle to themselves for a month, but they had to admit that after a while, the same old routine became a bore, and they were all anxious for the hallways to be active with students again. Leslie was even beginning to think she was missing the mischievous antics of Ron's brothers, Fred and George, which used to irritate Leslie to no end, since she was often a guinea pig for some of their new joke material. She suspected it was her own bloody fault for spending a summer at Ron's house.

At the risk of sounding like Hermione (although she would never admit this to anyone), Leslie was also excited about beginning the new term. After receiving the news from McGonagall that she had done exceedingly well in all of her classes, Leslie was anxious to begin her fourth year, and excel in all of her subjects, with a newfound sense of confidence. After her previous year, nearly failing Defence Against the Dark Arts, and doing so poorly in Transfiguration, Leslie was geared to reach the top of her class (well, nearly. She had already accepted she wouldn't receive higher marks than Hermione).

While the Hogwarts students waited for the enchanted carriages to arrive, Leslie watched as old friends reunited after a summer away from each other, and she even greeted a few of her own friends she hadn't seen. Harry, Ron and Hermione were doing the same.

Finally, the carriages arrived, pulled by nothing but magic, and everybody but the first year students piled into them, excited chatter following them. Leslie watched out of her window at all the nervous first years, bumping into each other wide-eyed as Hagrid led them down to the lake, the lake they would cross to get to Hogwarts. Leslie couldn't help but remember her first year in the enchanted boats, and the first time she had seen the castle. That all seemed so long ago now, Leslie thought as she stared out the carriage window.

As they headed up the path to Hogwarts, Leslie couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret at having spent the summer holidays at Hogwarts. There was nothing quite like riding up to Hogwarts for the first time in two months, and feeling that overwhelming sense of being home. Arriving by the Floo network just wasn't the same.

The thought quickly passed, as the carriages stopped right outside the front steps of Hogwarts. Leslie, Harry, Hermione and Ron casually jumped out of the carriages, as they watched everyone jump out and run up the steps excitedly. Leslie laughed to herself, never fully realizing just how silly they must have looked every year. Amazing what excitement could do.

Before they knew it, they were seated at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by their fellow classmates, engaging in loud conversations and sharing memories about their summer vacations.

"Gran was going to take me to Maliguti's Magical Amusement Park," Neville started, "But then my Bouncing Bulb got out of its pot and we couldn't find it for two weeks! Gran cancelled the trip, because she didn't want to come home and find the house in ruins because my plant couldn't sit still." Leslie sighed. Neville had a head for Herbology, and she had always assumed he would have a lot of plants back home. Leslie cleared her throat.

"Well, did you find it?" She asked. Neville nodded.

"Yeah. It was under my bed the whole time. When I found it, I asked Gran if we could still go to Maliguti's, but she said her heart wouldn't be able to take all those rides after the panic I put her through with losing my plant." He said dejectedly. Leslie smiled, finding the whole situation hilarious.

"What did you do this summer, Leslie?" Neville asked. Leslie froze. All this time spent at Hogwarts, and she hadn't thought of a single thing to say to her fellow students when they asked.

"Oh, we didn't do much of anything." Leslie lied. Before Neville could ask any follow-up questions, the front doors of the Great Hall opened, and every head turned to see Professor McGonagall entering the room with a crowd of first year students, walking in pairs, single file, down the room and to the front of the room. Ron elbowed Leslie in the ribs.

"Blimey," He whispered. "Were _we_ that small when we were first years?" Leslie forced herself to hold in a giggle, as the first years glanced nervously at all the older students.

"When I call your name, you are to come forth and wear the Sorting Hat. After you are sorted, you may go to your house's table and have a seat." McGonagall unrolled a long piece of parchment, and pushed her glasses up. "Chrysta Schultz."

A stick-thin blonde girl walked forward hesitantly, as she had to hop to reach the stool that sat up on the front stage. McGonagall took the hat and placed it on the young girl, who's head completely disappeared under the weight of the hat. Leslie smiled to herself. The room fell silent for a few moments, as the hat was deliberating. Likely, the Sorting Hat was talking to Chrysta, as it had to Leslie when it was deciding where she would fit best. Chrysta's whole body was trembling under the hat. Leslie felt for the young girl. She had been terrified of the Sorting Hat.

"Hufflepuff!" The hat finally announced, as the Hufflepuff table erupted into loud cheers, accepting Chrysta to their table with pats on her back.

"Stephanie Stumpage." McGonagall called next, as another small girl with short brown hair approached the stool. She appeared much more confident than Chrysta had, and hopped up onto the stool with a grin on her face. As the hat touched her head, it yelled out immediately,

"Hufflepuff!" The Hufflepuff table cheered again as Stephanie skipped down the aisle to sit next to Chrysta, giving her a hug. Leslie supposed the two were already friends.

"Clara Cloovenhoove." This time, it was a dark-haired girl with glasses who approached the stool, head held high.

"Gryffindor!" The Sorting Hat announced after a moment's deliberation. Leslie joined her peers in jumping to their feet in cheering for the newest addition to their house. Clara joined the Gryffindor table with a shy smile.

The Sorting continued for some time, until finally Merton Mercelles was sorted into Ravenclaw, and Professor McGonagall took her seat with the rest of the professors at the head table.

Professor Dumbledore rose and approached the podium, his sparking eyes seeming to rest on each and every individual student in the room. Leslie smiled. She didn't think she could ever tire of Professor Dumbledore. He was, after all, the greatest wizard who ever lived.

"Welcome to Hogwarts for another year of learning and life!" Dumbledore announced, his arms spread wide in a welcoming manner. "Now, I know you are all anxious to tuck in to the great feast which the House Elves have been preparing, but I must make a few announcements." Ron dropped his fork and cupped his face in his hands moodily. Leslie rolled her eyes.

"First, the privilege of Hogsmeade's trips will be available to everyone third year or higher. Unfortunately, this luxury was unavailable last year because of the Black Fog that covered most of Hogsmeade. There is nothing to worry about this year - the town is safe." Dumbledore explained. Leslie smiled at Harry, Hermione and Ron. She had never had the chance to go to Hogsmeade - not for fun anyway. Thankfully, she still had the permission form her grandmother had signed for her last year tucked away in her trunk...somewhere.

"Because so many of you missed out on the Hogsmeade trips last year, we have decided to hold our first outing this weekend for anyone third year or higher. Remember, permission forms are mandatory.

"My second announcement is of the upmost importance and honor for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A special occasion is happening at Hogwarts this year, one that only occurs every five years, so for most of you, this will be the first and the last time you experience it." By now, curious whispers filled the Great Hall, wondering what Dumbledore could be talking about. Some of the sixth and seventh year students didn't react, however. They already knew what he was speaking about. Leslie, however, continued to listen curiously.

"This event is strictly for fourth years and higher. The MistleBall," He paused for dramatic effect, "occurs every five years at one of the three consecutive wizarding schools around Europe. This year, we have the special honor and privilege of hosting the MistleBall at Hogwarts!" He waited, as students clapped their approval. Leslie, however, still felt confused. _What on earth is a MistleBall?_

"This year, our brother and sister schools, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute will be visiting our school the week before our Christmas holidays begins for the MistleBall, which is first and foremost, a dance."

Squeals erupted from all the girls. Nervous chatter from the boys. The entire whole was bustling with conversation, and Dumbledore waited patiently before he raised up his hands to silence the students.

"I'm sure you are all very excited about the MistleBall, but I must impress upon you the responsibilities we hold in playing the host school for this traditional event. It is a great honor to host such a ball, and I do hope each and every one of you will remember you are representatives to the fine name of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I expect you to behave responsibly." Dumbledore said. Leslie and Hermione shared a glance between the two of them. Leslie thought of Fred and George, and couldn't imagine the MistleBall ending without at least one prank from the twins.

Still, Leslie couldn't figure out what to make of the idea of a dance. She had never attended one. Her parents had gone to dances all the time, leaving Leslie at home alone, or with the nanny when she was younger, but Leslie had never been. Whizbees, she didn't even know_ how_ to dance. What if they were expected to dance? Leslie suddenly felt very nervous.

"Lastly, I would like to introduce you to a new face at our staff table this year. I would like you to join me in welcoming our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, professor Cassanda Crims." Dumbledore said with a grin. Leslie watched as Professor Crims shyly stood from her spot behind the head table, and flashed a smile, as her cheeks turned slightly pink. Leslie smiled as she joined her peers in clapping. Leslie quickly noticed Crims' eyes scanning the crowd, and they rested on Leslie. With a flash of her smile, she gave Leslie a quick wink, and carried on through the crowd. Leslie smiled to herself. Ron nudged her in the ribs with a roll of his eyes.

"Being one teacher's pet just isn't enough for you, is it?" He asked with a sarcastic grin. Leslie puckered her brow.

"What are you on about?" She asked.

"Well, two years ago, Professor Wizzie stood up for you when you got into that fist fight with Gabrielle Sorcer. She calls on you all the time in class. You're clearly her favourite." Ron motioned toward Professor Crims. "Now you've got this one giving you birthday presents and playing favourites." Leslie rolled her eyes.

"You're crazy." She said, looking back up at the head table, where Professor Crims sat back down, engaging in a conversation with Professor McGonagall. "She's just a nice person, that's all."

Dumbledore gave the word, and the plates on the tables magically filled up with food. Ron's hands moved so fast, Leslie wasn't sure if he was using magic to fill his plate, or if he was just plain hungry.

As Ron stuffed his cheeks full of food, Leslie decided to talk to Hermione and Harry over dinner, since talking to Ron would result in a lot of repetition, since nobody could ever understand what Ron was saying when he spoke with his mouth full.

"A dance." Hermione said casually. "I've read about the MistleBall, but only in passing. It was never something that interested me, but now that it's coming to Hogwarts, well, that's just something to think on now, isn't it?"

"I never realized there would be times when we could meet kids from the other schools." Leslie pondered. "I wonder if Tenille will be there." She smiled at the thought. Ron looked up, puckering his brow.

"Whro?" He mumbled. Leslie rolled her eyes.

"You serious? Have you forgotten how Lucius Malfoy used Tenille Smythe to brew the Venom of Trog to kill all those people? Has that small bit of information escaped your mind?" She asked with an angry tone. Ron's eyes rolled in his head as he thought back.

"Rwight!" He pointed out, going back to his corn on the cob.

"Anyway, she'll probably be here. If it's for fourth years and higher, Tenille will probably be coming with the Beauxbatons students." Hermione said, ignoring Ron's moment of stupidity.

"You don't think...we'll actually have to, you know, dance, do you?" Harry asked awkwardly. Hermione and Leslie shared a smile, and Leslie wasn't about to admit she was having the very same thoughts.

* * *

After the feast was over, the students bustled out of the Great Hall in eager anticipation for their beds. It was a traditional occurrence after the first meal of the year, which was always incredibly eloquent and rather large, for students to become very sleepy and head to bed right away. Especially since the feast usually happened so late in the evening.

Leslie, Ron, Hermione and Harry trudged on up the moving staircases that led to the Gryffindor common room, and waited while Fred and George gave the new password to the Fat Lady.

Soon, they were in an empty common room, as everyone had quickly gone up to their dormitories. The four friends, however, were distracted by Hedwig, who was flapping her wings in the window to get Harry's attention.

"What's she on about?" Leslie asked suddenly, as the four approached the window curiously. Harry took a step forward and noticed the piece of paper that was in Hedwig's beak. He took it from her and opened it up. His eyes widened.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry swallowed, and looked up.

"It's...it's from Sirius." He replied.

Soon, Leslie, Harry, Ron and Hermione curled up by the fireplace, while Harry nervously fingered the letter.

"Go on, Harry, read it." Ron said anxiously. Leslie elbowed him in the ribs.

"Give him some time, Ron." She said quietly. She ignored Ron rolling his eyes.

"He's right, though. I should just read it." Harry turned his head down and skimmed it quickly. Leslie, Hermione and Ron all leaned in, not even realizing it. Harry's expression never changed. It was hard to know what the letter must be saying with a face like that. It was frustrating, Leslie concluded.

He folded the letter up finally and leaned back against his seat. Nobody said anything for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but when he remained silent, Ron's impatience got the better of him.

"Well?" He asked. Harry shrugged.

"He wants to meet me." He said. Leslie's eyes widened.

"When?" She asked.

"During our first trip to Hogsmeade." He paused. "This weekend." Leslie smiled.

"That's great, Harry! You'll be able to meet your godfather! He might be able to tell you more about your mum and dad too." She said excitedly.

Harry didn't move.

"You alright, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

"I'm not sure." He replied. "But I guess the good news is that Sirius sent a signed permission form for my Hogsmeade trips."

Harry didn't feel much like talking about Sirius, so the four retired to their bedrooms. As soon as Leslie was cuddled up in her bed, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentedness as she fell back against her pillows. She felt sleep coming on fast, and then Hermione spoke.

"Leslie?" She whispered. Leslie opened her eyes and turned over to face Hermione.

"Yes?" She asked. Hermione paused for a moment, and then asked.

"You feeling better?" She asked. Leslie realized Hermione was talking about yesterday's birthday party, when Leslie lied about feeling sick. She still didn't think Hermione completely bought it. She was probably asking as another opportunity to see if Leslie would tell her the truth. Leslie just faked a smile.

"Much better." She replied, as she closed her eyes. "Thanks for asking."


	10. First Day

"_Mummy, will you tuck me in?" 6-year-old Leslie asked from her bedroom, seeing her mum pass by. _

_Silence._

"_Mummy?" Leslie tried again._

_Nothing._

_Leslie jumped out of bed and followed her mother down the hallway. Leslie continued to follow her, carrying her old bear beside her._

"_Mum?" Leslie asked. Her mother didn't turn around, she just exhaled heavily. Leslie quickened her pace._

"_Mummy?" Leslie asked again. She jumped when her mother whipped around and glared at the little girl._

"_I thought I told you to go to bed!" She yelled. Leslie stayed silent as she watched her mum continue down the hallway and turn the corner, never looking back. _

_Leslie went back to bed, clutching her bear tightly. Another night all alone._

* * *

Leslie woke up with a start. She realized it was morning, the sun was peeking through the stained glass windows in her dormitory. She breathed out; it was just a dream. Whizbees, though, it felt so _real._

Hermione was already awake, dressed and ready to go. Leslie wasn't surprised - it was their first day of classes. Hermione already had her school bag filled with the important textbooks. She had even filled Leslie's bag.

Leslie decided not to say anything to Hermione about her keenness, so she got dressed quietly, and quickly put her hair up in her typical pigtails. She stared at her reflection in the mirror for some time, disgruntled by the black lines forming under her eyes. These dreams that were beginning to occur more rapidly, which were really more like intense memories from her childhood, were interrupting her sleep cycle, and it was starting to show. Leslie sighed. She wished she knew a spell to correct those lines. Hermione did, she was sure of that, but she didn't want to ask.

"Leslie, you coming? We're going to miss breakfast!" Hermione called from the common room. Leslie pouted, not feeling in the best mood to start classes, but she grabbed her school bag anyway, and trudged down the stairs, pouting. Hermione noticed.

"What's the matter?" She asked. Leslie shrugged.

"I'm just tired." She half-lied. She was tired, but she didn't mention the dreams. Hermione wouldn't understand.

Moments later, they were in the Great Hall, having breakfast with Harry and Ron, who were late, as usual. As Ron shoveled food into his mouth, Hermione looked over their schedule for the twentieth time, and it was then that Leslie realized she hadn't even looked at it yet. She was thankful Hermione put her bag together, because she had no idea where she was even going first.

With a yawn, she pulled her timetable out of her bag, that was neatly folded by Hermione, and looked it over.

It looked great, and it perked Leslie up a little to know she had both Defence Against the Dark Arts _and_ Care of Magical Creatures on the same day. They were two of Leslie's most loved classes, especially because Hagrid was teaching Magical Creatures. She wasn't sure what to expect from Defence Against the Dark Arts. She remembered that Professor Crims was the one who wrote the textbook for the class, which meant she must be intelligent, so at least the material would be more reliable than Professor Wizzie's Muggle Studies.

The only blemish in their time table was that they would have to suffer through Potions with Professor Snape. And since he and Professor Wizzie were no longer seeing each other, Leslie feared how Snape would take to Gryffindors. He had already threatened them a few times during the summer. Leslie sighed.

She poked at her eggs while Hermione began reading the first chapter of _Defensive Strategies for the New Millennium_, and Ron and Harry had a mindless conversation about the Chudley Cannons. Her friends were too busy to notice Leslie's distraction, and for that morning, she was glad.

* * *

Leslie stood outside Hagrid's hut among a crowd of students half an hour later, sweating in her cardigan. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on Hogwarts mercilessly. She breathed out and brushed a bead of sweat from her forehead as Hagrid came out of his hut with a wide grin on his abnormally large face.

"Good mornin' boys 'n gurls. Have I got a treat fer yeh! I have a new friend fer yeh to meet today." He put his fat fingers up to his lips and blew, which resulted in a high-pitched whistle that Leslie was sure caused temporary hearing loss.

The students waited impatiently, wondering what they were supposed to expect. Leslie looked toward the forest, expecting some creature to emerge from the treeline. Nothing. So she looked toward the Black Lake, antipating the Giant Squid to make an appearance, but once again, nothing.

It wasn't until she heard a loud squawk that she looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun, that she saw it.

It was hard to make out all of its features, but the flying creature was obviously gigantic in size. It's wingspan was phenomenal, but nothing else was easily discernable from the height it was at.

She ignored the curious chatter coming from her peers, as she was unable to peel her eyes away from the creature that was coming in for a landing.

"Git back, git back!" Hagrid suddenly shouted, and Leslie realized why he was shouting. The creature seemed to be anticipating its landing pad to be right where all the students were hovered.

Girls ran away shrieking, and Leslie rolled her eyes as she and her friends backed away from the clearing, finding a spot to lean against Hagrid's hut, as they continued to watch the sky.

The scaly creature came in for a landing in the clearing, and Leslie realized it was a lot bigger than it looked from the sky. Its wingspan was large, but the rest of its body was like nothing Leslie had ever seen before. The thing had scales on its body, but it's head looked like that of a bird. It had a long, slithery tail too, and it let out another loud squawk, which shook the ground they were standing on.

Hagrid approached the creature with a cheeky grin, and as he stood next to the creature, Leslie couldn't believe how big the creature actually was. Hagrid only came up to its chest!

"This little guy's name is Chinolk. Imported 'im all the way from Scotland, I did, just fer yeh to meet 'im. Chinolk is a Cockatrice, and if yeh've had a chance to look over that chapter in yer textbooks, yeh'll know a Cockatrice is a mix between a rooster and a lizard of sorts. Wizards stilling out 'aven't decided if it's a snake or a dragon, but either way, that explains its scales, and tail." Hagrid patted the creature's neck, and it cooed softly. "He's very friendly, but if he feels threatened at all..."

Leslie tuned out because she noticed Malfoy sneaking away from the rest of the group, with Crabbe and Goyle on his trail. Leslie had a bad feeling about it, and turned back to Hagrid, who was talking about the Cockatrice's ancient ancestors, tracing back to a war of some kind.

That was when it happened.

Out of nowhere, rocks came flying toward the clearing, and hurtled toward the creature. Nobody noticed, except for Leslie. She swallowed.

"Hagrid-" She tried to speak up, but Hagrid's booming voice overruled hers.

"Hagrid!" She shouted. He still didn't hear her, but Hermione, Harry and Ron had, and they stared at her with curious eyes.

"Leslie, what's the matter?" Hermione asked. Before Leslie could answer, they heard a thud, and all hell broke loose.

One of the rocks had clearly hit Chinolk, and he jumped up onto his hind legs, squawking wildly, waving his front legs in front of him, shaking his head violently. Students began to scream and run in all sorts of directions as Chinolk landed hard on all fours, and ran at a blinding speed toward the tree line.

Hagrid shouted after Chinolk, but the creature would not be tamed.

"Class dismissed!" Hagrid shouted, and he began to run toward the trees. The students began to run toward the castle, but Harry, Hermione, Ron and Leslie stayed behind.

"We should go help him." Harry suggested. Ron nodded, and as the three friends headed toward the Forbidden Forest, Leslie glared after Malfoy. Hermione turned around and grabbed Leslie's arm nervously.

"Leslie, no." She said quietly. Ever since their first year at Hogwarts, Leslie had had a burning hatred toward Draco Malfoy, and ever since first year, she had wanted nothing more than to jinx him, curse him, cast a horrible spell on him to teach him a lesson, but Hermione had always stopped her.

Leslie pulled her wand out of her pocket and Hermione's grip tightened on her arm.

"Hermione, let me go! He's had this coming for years! It's one thing for him to be horrible and annoying to us, but for him to disrupt a class, _especially_ Hagrid's class, well that's just it! You go help Hagrid, I'm going to give Malfoy a piece of my mind!" Leslie pulled away from Hermione, but Hermione jumped in front of Leslie, pushing her back slightly.

"You can't, Leslie, think of your grandmother, think of _Gryffindor!_ Honestly Leslie, it's the first day of term. You can't get into trouble already." She tried to reason. Leslie breathed out heavily.

"Who cares if I get into trouble? Malfoy's done all of these _horrible_ things and he _never_ gets caught and he _never_ gets into trouble! My getting into trouble would be 100% worth it if I could just teach him a lesson he won't forget!" She was seething now, but Hermione wouldn't let her pass.

"Let's just help Hagrid, Leslie." Hermione tried saying in a calm voice. Leslie stared at her for a moment, and then stared after Malfoy, who was halfway up to the castle. She glared in his direction, but finally put her wand back in her pocket. She breathed out.

"Fine." She turned around. "Let's go."

* * *

The four friends had caught up with Hagrid, and they all split up into three groups. Harry and Hermione went together, while Ron and Leslie went in the opposite direction. Hagrid went further into the forest, which the children weren't allowed to do. It wasn't long before Leslie found Chinolk rubbing up against a tree, whining pitifully. Ron had been terrified to go anywhere near the creature, but Leslie approached him carefully.

"Hi Chinolk." She whispered, as the scaly creature cocked its head and stared at her. Leslie had to crane her neck to look up at it, and she was pleased when it didn't run away, it actually _cooed_ at her. Leslie giggled.

"Ignore Malfoy, Chinolk, he's a monster! He doesn't understand you, that's all." She said softly, as she reached out her hand to touch the neck of the creature as Hagrid had earlier. She faintly heard Ron wincing in the background. Honestly, Ron had the bravery capacity of a teaspoon.

Chinolk's neck was surprisingly soft, despite the scales, and he cooed loudly as he rubbed his head against the tree.

"Hagrid, we found him!" Ron called out, but Leslie was distracted. She had been wrong about this creature. When she first saw it, she thought he was ugly and frightening-looking. She never would have guessed he had the heart of a puppy dog.

She wanted to stay longer and interact with the lovable creature, but they were going to be late for Herbology. Leaving Hagrid at his hut, who thanked the foursome over and over again, Hermione, Ron, Leslie and Harry ran across the field, toward the greenhouses which were on the other side of the castle. They ran as fast as their legs could carry them, which was brutal when it was already as hot as it was. Panting, Ron spoke up.

"This...would...be...a lot...easier...if we...could just...Apparate...to...the other...side of...the...castle!" He wheezed. Hermione huffed impatiently.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Ronald! A, you are underaged, and B, you cannot Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds!" She yelled out. Leslie picked up the speed with Harry, leaving behind Ron and Hermione to argue away their energy.

* * *

Herbology went by fairly quickly, which Leslie was thankful for. Herbology wasn't one of her most favourite classes, but it was nice to see Neville doing so well, answering every question confidently. Neville wasn't very bright when it came to most subjects, and he wasn't very coordinated either, but when it came to Herbology, Neville was smarter than nearly everyone (with the exception of Hermione).

Leslie hoped lunch would drag on and on, because their dreaded Potions class was after lunch, but soon enough, lunch was over, and the foursome dragged their feet down toward the dungeons of Hogwarts for their first fourth year Potions class, another dreaded year with Professor Snape.

None of the four friends said anything - they didn't have to. They were all dreading it like open-heart surgery.

Despite Hermione's usual efforts to find a seat in the front of the classroom, the four friends settled themselves at the very back of the dungeon. They placed their cauldrons on their desk, and opened up their textbooks to the first chapter. Leslie shivered. For a day that was as hot as it was, the dungeons were freezing. Leslie crossed her arms for warmth.

Ron leaned over to Leslie, Hermione and Harry with a cheeky grin.

"Wouldn't it be great if Snape ever got _fired?_" He whispered. Leslie breathed out happily.

"Ron, don't do that to me. It's important to keep yourself rooted firmly in reality, you know." She said.

"Besides, Dumbledore trusts Snape, and places him in high regard as a professor. As long as Dumbledore is around, Snape will be around." Hermione moaned.

"Maybe if Dumbledore had to sit in on these classes, he'd realize just how pure evil Snape really is." Harry pointed out. Leslie sighed. Dumbledore was too nice. Even if he did sit in on these classes, he'd come up with a legitimate reason for Snape's disciplinary techniques. No, they would have to endure Potions with Snape for the next four years. Leslie felt sick to her stomach.

Snape arrived a few moments late, and started right up with a lecture about a potion Leslie had never heard of, and even Hermione looked confused, flipping through her textbook with furrowed eyebrows. Leslie swallowed. This was going to be a rough year.

It didn't help that Snape was talking faster than usual, his back turned to the class, and Leslie was having a hard time hearing him, and keeping up in her note taking. She breathed out impatiently.

"Now, who can tell me what four ingredients combine to create the most lethal dose of the _Atrocitas _Potion?" Snape whipped around and glared at Leslie. "Perks?"

Leslie looked up nervously, her heart racing. Potions was her least favourite subject, but she did pay attention, and she was quite certain she had never heard of the _Atrocitas_ Potion. She quickly glanced at Hermione, who stared at Snape with wide eyes. She clearly didn't know the answer either.

Leslie cleared her throat nervously, feeling every eye on her, as she tapped her quill nervously.

"Um..."

"Yes, Ms. Perks?" Snape raised a patronizing eyebrow. Leslie swallowed and lowered her head.

"I...don't know," She said quietly, nearly forgetting to add, "sir." Snape breathed out furiously.

"Why am I not surprised? How you've managed to slither your way through this many years of magical education is beyond me." He said in an even, menacing tone. "Detention, Ms. Perks, for clearly not paying attention in last year's class." Snape turned back toward the board, as Leslie stared at him with her mouth open. Hermione gave Leslie a look that said there had been no material on the _Atrocitas_ Potion last year. Snape was merely picking on her. Harry spoke up.

"That's hardly fair, Professor! Even if we _did_ learn about that potion last year, which I really doubt we did, it's stupid to expect us to remember every detail from something that was taught that long ago!" He exclaimed evenly. Snape turned around and shot him a glance that would kill if it could.

"You will also serve detention with me, Potter! Who do you think you are, speaking to a professor like that?" He said in a flat voice, never lowering his glare. "I will also take away 200 points from Gryffindor for a clear lack of interest in studies, as well as a big mouth."

* * *

Leslie wanted to scream as they left the dungeons after a long and grueling class. They had always known Snape was an awful human being, but today's first Potion class could not have gotten any worse!

"I can't believe he took away _200_ points! Term just started!" Ron shouted as they ascended the staircase out of the dungeons.

"And now we have to serve detentions!" Harry complained. Leslie turned to Hermione.

"You're the smartest girl in the entire school, Hermione. Correct me if I'm wrong, but did we _ever_ learn about the _Atrocitas_ Potion?" She asked. Hermione shook her head angrily.

"No, and it was low of him to pretend like we had. That's very advanced material. I haven't even seen anything about it in anything I've ever read." She explained. Leslie sighed angrily.

"I thought he was bad enough when he was dating Wizzie, but now that they've split, I think he's gotten worse, if _that's_ even possible!" She pouted. First Malfoy, then Snape. She wondered if her day was going to get any better.

As they headed to their Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, they passed by the four hourglasses in the wall that illustrated the four House points. The four friends groaned when they saw that the red hourglass was in the negatives!

"I'm gonna murder that man!" Ron said moodily as he quickened his pace toward their classroom.

"Ronald, don't be rash." Hermione said quietly.

"It's just not right. If he has issues with Wizzie, he should deal with them, and not take them out on _us!"_ Harry exclaimed. Leslie didn't say anything. She was too busy dreading what Snape's detention was going to be like. She shuddered.

They arrived at their usual Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom feeling rather depressed, but Hermione was still feeling well enough to find a spot at the very front of the classroom. Leslie decided to join her, while Harry and Ron found a desk right behind the girls. Leslie sighed, feeling rather thankful it was their last class for the day. With Snape's detention to serve, she would need time to do her first day's homework.

As Leslie pulled out her textbook, Professor Crims entered the classroom from her office that was just off to the side of the classroom. Leslie looked up and saw that Professor Crims seemed to smile at each and every one of the students there. Crims looked at Leslie and gave her a small wink, as she arranged a pile of books on her desk. Leslie smiled to herself. It seemed as though Crim's very presence lit up the room, and Leslie's mood seemed to lift, just slightly.

Crims waited patiently at her desk while the rest of the students filed into the room, finding a spot to sit. When Malfoy walked in, Leslie made sure she turned around to give him a level glare. He only smirked when she glared at him. She felt every fibre of her being wanting to grab her wand, but she could feel Hermione's eyes on her.

Leslie forced herself to face the front again, and was thankful when the last student entered the room and Professor Crims began to start.

"Well, good afternoon everybody. I'm really excited to spend the year with you, and I hope we can all learn something from this class." She smiled. "I'm Professor Crims, and let's see, what can I tell you about myself that's even remotely interesting? Well, back when I was a student at Hogwarts, I was in Ravenclaw. I managed to get top marks in all of my classes, every year, and I graduated with high standing after I completed my seventh year here. After that, I worked for the Ministry of Magic as a researcher. I was in charge of researching the Dark Arts, and discovering and inventing new defensive techniques. I was there until Professor Dumbledore approached me with a job offer, and that is why I'm here with you today. I plan to use a lot of my research from the Ministry in teaching you this course, so we're going to learn some new strategies and theories that you may never have heard of before." Crims explained with a smile. Leslie looked over at Hermione, who was absolutely beaming. Leslie shook her head to herself. Anything that meant Hermione was going to learn something new was like giving candy to a baby.

Expecting the lesson to begin right away, Leslie pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, but was surprised when Professor Crims came around to the front of her desk, hoisted herself up to sit on top of it, and settled her hands in her lap casually.

"Well then, enough about me. I want to know more about you. Why don't we go around the classroom? Tell me your name, what house you're in, and something you did this summer." Crims said, her smile never faltering. Leslie couldn't believe it. No professor in all her years at Hogwarts had ever done anything like this before - not even Professor _Wizzie._ Leslie put her quill down, and folded her hands quietly.

"How about you start, young man?" Professor Crims pointed at Neville, who swallowed hard. Poor Neville. He had always hated being the center of attention, but he still spoke up in a squeaky voice.

"I'm Neville. I'm from Gryffindor." He said shyly.

"It's very nice to meet you, Neville." Crims said politely. "What did you do that was exciting this summer?" Neville swallowed.

"Well, I, er....I went to the Herbology Museum in Sussex with my Gran." He said shyly. Professor Crims beamed at him.

"Oh, that must have been so much fun! I've only been there once, several years ago, but it was very interesting. Were you able to see the exhibit on the _Adsulto_ Anthurium's?" She asked. Neville smiled a little.

"Well, _I_ did, but my Gran didn't want to. She was a little afraid of them." He explained. Crims nodded with a smile.

"That sounds wonderful, Neville." She turned toward someone else. For the next half hour, Professor Crims listened to each student say their name and what they did for the summer. Crims was kind to each student, asking them questions and seeming genuinely interested in each of their summers. It was when she pointed at Malfoy that Leslie cringed inside.

"Draco, Draco _Malfoy._" He accentuated his last name. "From Slytherin.

This summer, my father and I bought out an oil refinery in Knockturn Alley. Brought us in loads and loads of money. Thanks to that, my father made sure I had the newest model of broomstick, new robes and everything else I wanted for the year. My father told me with all this money, he could have sent me to a more high-end school of magic, but in the end, I decided to suck it up and stay here." Malfoy said with a sneer, and snobby voice. Leslie scrunched up her face and made sure to concentrate on breathing. Every syllable that came out of his mouth made her want to knock out all his teeth.

Crims just stared at Malfoy with an even smile, but she didn't seem all that impressed.

"Huh." She said in a friendly tone. "That sounds wonderful, Draco." She was obviously trying to be polite. Leslie had to keep herself from telling her not to bother.

"How about you, my dear?" Crims had finally come to her. Leslie had nearly forgotten she hadn't had a turn yet. Now, she felt like every eye was on her, and she suddenly felt very nervous.

"Er, I'm Leslie from Gryffindor." She said quietly. "And, er, well, I didn't really do anything interesting this summer."

"What? Oh come on now, Leslie, that can't be true." Crims said with a smile, leaning forward. "You must have done _something_ interesting." Leslie simply shook her head with a shrug. Crims wasn't about to give up that easily.

"Wasn't it at least nice to be home with your parents for some of the summer?" She asked kindly. Leslie froze, her stomach dropped and her heart rate accelerated. She had never thought...of course Professor Crims wouldn't know about her parents' death, she hadn't been there. She only knew she was visiting her grandmother.

Leslie's stomach was in knots, as she turned and looked all around at the eyes who were watching her. Some avoided looking at her; they had remembered the news about Leslie's parents, others looked at her as curiously as Crims did. Leslie couldn't breathe, but she finally swallowed and nodded quickly.

"Yeah." She stuttered, staring at her desk. "It was great."

Hoping that Professor Crims would just get on with the lesson, she avoided eye contact in hopes that she wouldn't ask any more questions. But it wasn't Professor Crims' voice that they heard next. It was Malfoy.

"You should consider yourself lucky, _Perks!_" He shouted. Leslie turned and glared at him. "You shouldn't lie about your stupid Muggle parents being _dead!_ The world's better off without that kind of blood tainting our world anyway!" Leslie froze, in all her hatred toward Malfoy, she couldn't even muster up enough anger to retaliate. Now the whole class knew about her parents, now Professor Crims knew. Leslie couldn't breathe.

"You okay?" Hermione whispered cautiously, but Leslie didn't answer.

She stared down at the floor, forcing the tears away as she heard footsteps coming down the classroom. She peered up to realize Professor Crims was walking down the aisle to stop in front of Malfoy's desk. She looked down at him with piercing blue eyes, arms crossed. Leslie was just shaking with emotion. Hermione put her hand on her shoulder.

"Mr. Malfoy, I want you to go over to Leslie's desk and apologize for what you have just said to her." Crims said in a stern voice. Leslie turned around and faced the front. Who was she kidding? She'd never get an apology out of Malfoy. Besides that, she'd rather _die_ than have to see his face again today. Leslie clutched her quill tightly.

Malfoy simply stared at the professor defiantly and scoffed.

"I wouldn't be caught dead apologizing to that foul-blooded creature." He said angrily, which resulted in a set of gasps coming from nearly every student in the classroom.

Silence followed, before Professor Crims spoke up again.

"Alright, Draco, if that's how you feel, you can serve detention with me tonight, and I will take away 50 points from Slytherin. I do not accept this kind of prejudice and behaviour in my classroom." She said calmly, and retreated back to the front of the classroom. Leslie smiled to herself, just slightly, imagining the Slytherin hourglass sand decreasing.

It wasn't long after that that the bell rang, and class was over. Leslie grabbed her things, and ran from the classroom without waiting for any of her friends. She heard Hermione calling after her, but Leslie had to get out of there. She simply ran as fast as her legs could carry her, through the corridors, up the staircases, along the hallways until she reached the Fat Lady and entered the Gryffindor common room, that was completely empty. She dropped by the fireplace, and she could no longer hide her tears. She just cried and cried, hitting the floor angrily with her fists, angry at herself for letting herself get this upset. She didn't even realize that she was no longer alone.

"Leslie?" Harry asked, kneeling beside her on the floor. Embarrassed, Leslie dried her tears and looked at the fireplace, wishing she had made it up to her dormitory. Harry awkwardly put a hand on Leslie's arm.

"Ignore him, Leslie. It'll be okay." He tried to comfort her. Before Leslie could say anything, a barn owl entered the common room's open window and landed on the armchair next to Leslie. Leslie looked up and realized the note the owl was holding was addressed to her. Sniffling, she pulled the note away from the owl, who flew away quickly, and opened it.

_Leslie_,

_If you are not busy, please stop by my office after dinner tonight._

_Sincerely, C. Crims_

Leslie sighed.

"Great." She muttered to herself, passing the note to Harry. She sighed. It was embarrassing enough having to have Professor Crims walk in on her crying and kicking a wardrobe, now she knew the truth about Leslie's parents, and probably imagined Leslie was upset. She sighed.

"Don't forget we have Snape's detention at eight." Harry reminded, as he handed Leslie back the note. Leslie shook her head, throwing the note in the fireplace.

"Don't worry, I doubt seeing Crims will take long." She said quietly, staring at the note that burned away. As she watched the paper crumble into nothing, she wondered if her life would ever be completely good again.


	11. The Navy Blue Velvet Chair

Leslie walked slowly, kicking at a stone in the corridor as she begrudgingly made her way down to Professor Crims office. She had tried to do her homework after Defence Against the Dark Arts, but her mind kept returning to what Malfoy had said in class. Leslie's whole stomach felt sick. Her homework still lay forgotten on the common room table.

In fact, she had skipped dinner entirely. When Hermione was on her way down to the Great Hall, Leslie told her she would meet her there, but instead, she spent the hour in the bathroom, sobbing silently.

What was _wrong_ with her? When did she become so emotional, she wondered to herself as she turned a corner. Bloody hell, it made her so _angry_ to have to be reminded that her parents were dead and she didn't have a family. _Then Malfoy had to broadcast that bit of information to _everybody!_ I swear, I could..._

It didn't matter, it wasn't even the fact that Malfoy brought it up that bothered her. She was so used to his less than friendly comments about her bloodline. No, it was because everybody knew she was an orphan now, including Professor Crims. _And why should that bother me? I'm not the first student here who doesn't have parents. What about Harry?_

Leslie wondered to herself why Professor McGonagall would tell the staff that Leslie was her granddaughter, but fail to mention to the staff that wasn't here during her first year that her parents were dead. Why wouldn't she make that bit of information clear, to _avoid_ horrible situations like these?

Oh well, Leslie thought, it wasn't her grandmother's fault. It wasn't anybody's fault, even though she greatly wanted to blame Malfoy, she couldn't. He hadn't killed her parents. He wasn't the one responsible for her parents' lack of affection.

Leslie sighed, unsure how to make sense of what she was feeling. She felt so confused, so angry, so upset. When was everything going to turn out right?

Leslie rounded another corner, and almost ran straight into him. Leslie sighed angrily.

Malfoy.

She thought about his father, and his threats in Knockturn Alley, and she seethed. She thought about all the horrible things Malfoy had ever said to her, and her friends, and she felt her blood boiling inside of her. Then she thought about today, and how he had embarrassed her in class, and exposed a secret Leslie would have been more than happy to keep, and she felt like she was going to punch him in the nose.

Leslie took a deep breath in, thinking of what Hermione would say, and she walked around him, acting as though she didn't see him.

But Malfoy wasn't about to let her go.

"What's the matter, Perks, gonna go cry some more?" He asked in his usual high-pitch sneer. Leslie continued walking, swallowing steadily, trying to ignore his words.

"I did you a favour, Mudblood. Puts you in your place, you know. You can't just go around pretending like you aren't Muggleborn. It puts people like _me_ and _my_ kind in a negative light." He added. Leslie clenched her fists together, pausing slightly, but forced herself to keep walking.

"Better off without them, I say. Although, now that I think about it, we're better off without _any_ of your kind. Filthy little Mudblood!"

That was it. Leslie didn't care what Hermione would say. She didn't care if she was expelled. She had enough!

She turned around, pulling out her wand furiously as she approached Malfoy quickly.

"_Rictusem-"_

She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"What's going on here?" A calm, but familiar voice asked. Leslie's heart rate did not slow down, but she stopped mid-spell as she breathed out quickly. Her eyes never left Malfoy, who stared at her with raised eyebrows.

"I don't think it's _me_ who deserves the detention, Professor Crims. Honestly, I was just minding my own business, doing my own things, just walking along mindlessly, when she _jumped_ me, and _threatened_ me!" Malfoy lied in a quiet voice. Leslie was fuming!

"You're a _liar!_ You foul, loathsome little _liar!_" She screamed, feeling the grip tighten on her shoulder.

"Don't you _dare_ call me a liar!" Malfoy retorted.

"You're lucky you get off so _easy!_ I _swear_ I-"

"You what? You're a coward anyway! What would you do?"

"_Don't tempt me!"_

"Alright, alright, that's enough out of you two." Professor Crims said quietly behind her. "Come on Leslie, we have a meeting anyway."

Leslie glared at Malfoy levelly until he turned around after smirking at her, and took off in the opposite direction. Leslie swallowed, shakily putting her wand back in her pocket. She shyly turned around to see Professor Crims looking at her. Leslie looked away.

"I'm sorry, I-" She sighed. "Malfoy, he just...I just get so..." She couldn't even finish. Crims smiled a little, as the two began walking toward her office.

"Don't worry Leslie, you don't need to explain yourself. I have worked with his father at the Ministry on occasion. I understand perfectly." She explained. Leslie sighed, wondering if this was completely true. _Do you know that Mr. Malfoy is a Deatheater who is responsible for so many murders and threatened my life_ _a couple of weeks ago?_ Leslie doubted it.

They sat down in two comfortably navy blue velvet chairs in Crims' office. Leslie found herself tapping the arm of the chair nervously. Crims didn't waste any time, forget all about the recent confrontation between Malfoy and Leslie.

"Leslie, I called you here, because I wanted to apologize for earlier. I never meant to put you in such an awkward situation." She said quietly. "If I had known..."

"It's okay." Leslie replied in a strained voice. "You didn't know." Crims offered a thankful smile.

"It's not that I wanted to lie, either." Leslie continued. "It's just that...well, I...I don't really enjoy talking about them, you know?" Professor Crims nodded.

"I understand." She replied.

"I doubt it." Leslie said, without thinking. She quickly looked up apologetically, realizing Crims hadn't even reacted to Leslie's tiny outburst.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Professor." She said quietly. Crims smiled with a bit of a laugh.

"You don't have to apologize so much, Leslie." She replied, and waited for a moment as Leslie began tapping the chair again. "Do you mind me asking, when did they die?"

"Oh," Leslie thought for a moment, "First year, Halloween."

"You must miss them terribly."

Leslie froze, feeling that familiar twinge of guilt she felt every time she thought about it.

She simply shook her head. Crims looked surprised.

"You don't?" She asked sympathetically. Leslie forced down the tears.

"I suppose that makes me a horrible person, but...but it's a bit...complicated." She said quietly. Crims tilted her head, staring at Leslie as she smiled softly.

"Leslie, you're not a horrible person. I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason why you don't miss them."

Leslie hesitated. Crims didn't _ask_ her to give her a reason, but there was something about her. Something that made Leslie want to tell her. Something that made her want to share with her professor what she could barely share with anybody else. She looked down.

"They...they weren't exactly...there. I...I never saw them, and when they were home, they were always busy. When I tried talking to them, they ignored me, or yelled at me. They never did anything with me, they never spent any time with me, they were too wrapped up in their own lives. I had a nanny who practically raised me. All the rest of the time, I was alone." She replied in almost a whisper, looking away. She didn't know why it made her so ashamed to talk about her life. It wasn't like it was anything she had been able to control or change. It was the life she had been given, no matter how bad it was, it wasn't her fault.

"Well, what about your grandmother? McGonagall? It must have been nice to have her come and visit from time to time." Crims pointed out, completely absorbed in what Leslie was saying. Leslie shook her head.

"I didn't meet her until my first year at Hogwarts, and I didn't know she was my grandmother until the end of first year." She went on when Crims looked curious. "My mum was a Muggle, and really jealous that she couldn't be a witch like my grandmother, so she refused to see her anymore, and I wasn't allowed to see her either. Mum didn't want me to become a witch, or find out about it. I didn't even know about McGonagall."

"If your mum didn't want you to be a witch, what did she think about you coming to Hogwarts? How did you end up here?"

Leslie simply shrugged.

"I dunno. Hagrid came and told me I was a witch, and I saw a way out, so...I ran. I left them a note, and...I never heard from them again." She explained, feeling a sense of sadness over their lack of concern over a missing daughter. If Hermione had done that...

"Leslie...I'm so sorry." Crims said after a moment's silence. Leslie looked up, and shook her head.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine." She fidgeted nervously. How had they gotten into this conversation? "Can...can I leave now?" Crims was quiet as she watched Leslie for a moment before she nodded.

"If you'd like, but Leslie, if you don't my asking; for someone who says she doesn't miss her parents, you sure do seem awful sad talking about them." She said silently. Leslie looked away, keeping her mouth shut. Why did she have to keep asking her questions? "Are you sad because they're gone? Or are you sad because you'll never know what it's like to have decent parents?"

Leslie looked up and stared at her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt her stomach churning. She could feel tears burning her eyes, as she tried to find words. How could she have known? How could she have _possibly_ known that was how Leslie was feeling?

"I...I gotta go." Leslie stood up and headed for the door, feeling a tear down her cheek. She stopped in the doorway, brushing it away angrily, when she felt gentle hands on her shoulders. Leslie couldn't stop crying. She held her breath to stop the sniffles.

"Leslie, it doesn't take a genius to figure out what's bothering you. I could see it on your birthday. I saw the look in your eyes when you saw Hermione's parents." Professor Crims said gently, soothingly. Leslie didn't respond. She continued to hold her breath, until she couldn't anymore, and she sniffled. Crims turned her to face her. Leslie looked away, ashamed. Crims leaned down to face Leslie.

"You don't have to deal with things by yourself." She said. Leslie took a deep breath, looked at Crims for only a second, and then shook her head.

"I...I have to go. I have a detention with Snape." Without another word, she ran from the classroom in tears.

She was thankful the hallways were empty, but fell flat on her back when she collided hard with someone.

"Leslie, geez, watch where you're going!" Harry said, as he stood up and offered his hand to help Leslie. Leslie took it with a sniffle, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Harry noticed immediately.

"You alright?" He asked worriedly. "What did Crims want?" Leslie shook her head.

"Nothing, I'm fine. She just wanted to see if I was alright." She paused, clearing her throat. "I suppose we should get this detention with Snape over with." Harry nodded, not saying much else. As they walked toward the dungeons, he knew something was bothering Leslie, but he knew when she wasn't willing to talk, so he let it slide.

Leslie ignored Snape's patronizing lecture, and set to work at cleaning out the lining of test tubes that the seventh years had been brewing _Igneus_ Potion in. She hardly noticed the burn blisters that were forming on her fingers, she was thinking too deeply about what Professor Crims had told her. _You don't have to deal with things by yourself._ She sighed, scrubbing harder. _How...how could she have known? I never told her, and still, she knew.._.

Leslie wanted to scream in frustration. When were things going to make sense?


	12. Magic is Overrated

Leslie and Harry were up early the next morning, by order of Madame Pomfrey. Leslie had always been sure there was absolutely nothing Snape could possibly do to make her hate him any worse than she already did, but last night's detention blew the roof off of that one.

Snape's _Igneus _Potion had only caused small burn blisters to form on Harry's and Leslie's fingers at first, but the more they had to clean out the test tubes, the worse they got, until their fingers were too swollen to even reach inside of the tubes. That was when Snape finally said that was good enough. They wouldn't have even gone to Madame Pomfrey last night if Hermione hadn't dragged them both down herself, which the nurse hadn't been too keen on - after all, they had been scrubbing for hours and it was late.

Madame Pomfrey treated their wounds last night but told them they would have to return first thing in the morning to be treated again.

"Never seen blisters like that. You lot must have done something terribly awful to anger Professor Snape into giving a detention like that." She scolded. Leslie rolled her eyes. _Yes, I looked at him funny. Whizbees, that's all it takes with him, and it's even worse now that he's sour with Wizzie._

Leslie felt tears stinging her eyes as she and Harry briskly walked toward the hospital wing. She hadn't got any sleep the night before - her fingers had throbbed in pain. Harry shared he hadn't got any sleep himself.

"Don't you think he should be reported for something like this?" Harry asked bitterly, as they quickened their pace. Leslie stifled a yawn.

"And what kind of detention do you suppose he'd give us for snitching? We can't win, Harry, we can only learn from this. We just have to keep our mouths shut and pretend like we don't exist in his class." She pointed out. Harry rolled his eyes.

"And then he'll think we're disrespecting him or something and we'll get punished for _that_." He said. Leslie sighed.

"Well, then I guess we have to accept that it's going to be a horrid year, then." She said, rubbing her sore fingers angrily.

"Look on the bright side - at least we don't have Potions today!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes, but look down the road to Friday, where we have _double_ Potions. Maybe in advance, we should look up special gloves we can wear to his detentions in the future that we can charm to appear invisible so _this_ doesn't happen again, what do you think?" Leslie replied.

"_I_ think this is all Wizzie's fault! She and Snape broke up and that's what's causing him to be so sour toward Gryffindors!" Harry retorted. Leslie sighed.

"You know, maybe we're assuming too much. Maybe it's got nothing to do with Wizzie, you know? Maybe Snape was just having a bad day." She pointed out.

Harry stopped in the middle of the corridor and Leslie did the same. They took one glance at each other and grinned.

"Nah!" They both said together, and raced toward the hospital wing in fits of laughter.

* * *

After lunch, Hermione, Ron, Leslie and Harry were sitting through their first Transfiguration class, as Professor McGonagall taught a lesson on the importance of transfiguring your shoes into snowshoes.

"_Especially _if you land yourself a job in the Antarctic or Alaska. Many witches or wizards from the Ministry are positioned in arctic climates already. This transfiguration spell is important for multitudes of snowfall, because let me tell you, boys and girls, regular boots or shoes will _not_ help you travel over four feet of snow. You will simply sink to the bottom and freeze to death." Professor McGonagall raised her wand to the ceiling. "Now, I've already taught you the proper incantation, so good luck and I do hope you will be able to figure out this spell rather quickly; being up to your middle in snow is a rather uncomfortable experience. _Accelero Nivosus_."

Without any warning, it was as though an avalanche erupted throughout McGonagall's classroom, and bucketfuls of crisp, white snow rolled in around the students, who screamed out until it was up to their middles.

Professor McGonagall, who sat at the front of the classroom, snow nowhere near her, simply picked up a book and began to read as the students began to complain.

Leslie groaned, although she had to admit, the cold snow felt good on her fingers.

"Bloody _hell_, I thought _Wizzie_ was bad in second year with her practical approach. What the bloody hell is this?" Ron complained, struggling to reach for his wand. Hermione already had hers out.

"Well then _stop_ complaining and perform the spell!" She positioned her wand the way McGonagall taught and swished it accurately. "_Nivosus Calceo_."

Not expecting anything less, Hermione's shoes became snowshoes and she quickly scrambled up to the top of the snow pile, standing up triumphantly before anybody else had succeeded. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Alright miss _smarty pants!_" He positioned his wand in a similar fashion. "_Nivochus Calico." _But his shoes didn't turn into snowshoes, somehow, he had managed to transfigure his necktie into a cat's tail. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Honestly _Ronald, _don't you pay attention? It's _NivoSUS CalCEO!_ Try again." Ron did, but it was hopeless.

Leslie had to admit, she felt a little nervous. Second year, she had fared rather poorly in Transfiguration and third year, she required special lessons from her grandmother to catch up and although she had done well in third year, she feared how well she would do in fourth. Her grandmother always told her if she could use her imagination, and believe Transfiguration was a useful subject, she would do a lot better, but Leslie had never found Transfiguration to be practical in any way, but, she reasoned, this spell made sense. So, she pulled out her wand and held it with a great amount of concentration.

"_Nivosus Calceo."_ She spoke clearly, and she felt it. Her shoes slowly transforming into snowshoes. She grinned to herself and took Hermione's offered hand as she pulled her way out of the snow and joined Hermione on top. She smiled to herself, as she caught a glimpse of her grandmother, who had been watching her progress. She swore she saw a smile cross McGonagall's lips. It made her day.

* * *

Ron was rather purple when they made their way to Muggle Studies after Transfiguration let out. He hadn't been successful in the snowshoe spell, and spent the class period up to his midrift in snow, with no pity from Professor McGonagall. He refused to see Madame Pomfrey for an anti-frostbite potion; Leslie guessed it was because it wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be. He was such a complainer, it drove her nuts sometimes. Maybe he was just hoping for a bit of extra attention from Professor Wizzie, whom Hermione and Leslie suspected he had been keen on since second year, though he never admitted it.

"Well, at least we have Professor Wizzie. Her classes are always...interesting." Leslie said. It was true; Wizzie's ideas about Muggles were always off - she hadn't spent any time with them, and had her own strange theories about how they lived their lives. At the very least, Leslie and her friends always had a good laugh later.

But Wizzie did not look her normal self today. Leslie had hoped she would have perked up a little before she had to begin teaching, but she still had those dark circles under her eyes and down-turned lips when she entered the classroom. Leslie and her friends pulled out their textbooks, but Wizzie immediately raised her hand.

"Oh don't worry about your textbooks, children, you shan't need them today." She said in a downcast voice that made Leslie's heart sink. Wizzie was always so cheerful and bubbly but ever since the four had arrived at Hogwarts in August, their Muggle Studies professor had become an entirely different person. Leslie, sighing, put her book back in her bag and waited for the lesson to begin.

"Well, you know, last year, I spent a lot of time talking about the objects Muggles use and why. Well, this year, I'm going to be spending my time talking about the way in which Muggles interact with one another, specifically, on a romantic level." That distant glaze crossed over her eyes again, and Leslie cupped her head in her hands. What now? "Romance is such a fickle thing, isn't it? I mean, just when you think you find the right man, er, person, it can just come back and hit you like a ton of bricks about how wrong you were about a person." She stared off into space and left it at that, silent for some time.

Leslie glanced at Harry and raised an eyebrow. Wizzie didn't speak for quite some time as she simply stared at the wall behind them.

Quiet chatter ensued, as students began to whisper back and forth, trying to figure out if someone should say something, but it was hard to tell. Wizzie would open her mouth as though she were about to say something, but then clamp it shut again.

"Oh, where was I?" She asked suddenly. "Right, I mean, Muggles have it all figured out now, don't they? Candlelight dinner, walk on the beach under the moonlight, serenading by the windowsill. It's quite wonderful." And then she faded again.

And so the rest of the class went.

As Hermione, Leslie, Ron and Harry left the class, they practically ran from the classroom in a rush, hoping not to be caught in the group of students Wizzie had begun a conversation with about the beauty of picnics.

Harry growled to himself.

"So there's Snape with his hatred toward Gryffindors and horrible detentions, and now there's Wizzie who has no idea what she's talking about, which is normal, but she's _miserable_ about it!" He exclaimed.

"Whizbees, this breakup is _worse_ than I thought! So today is September 2, so that means we have, oh, _ten months_ of this to deal with! Honestly guys, I don't know if I can do it!" Leslie added, clenching her fists tightly.

"Well, the day's over now, and tomorrow we don't have Potions _or_ Muggle Studies, so we have a free day to not have to deal with any of this. Let's get back to the common room, and get started on our homework." Hermione said, changing the subject.

Ron quickly changed into track pants and a thick sweater as he was still chilled from Transfiguration, as Hermione settled herself near the fire, sprawling her books all over the place to begin her homework. Harry and Leslie were quickly distracted by piece of parchment up on the bulletin board.

QUIDDITCH PRACTICE BEGINS TONIGHT

MEET YOUR NEW CAPTAIN

RAIN OR SHINE, THERE _WILL_ BE PRACTICE

DRESS ACCORDINGLY

QUIDDITCH PITCH AT 6PM

Leslie felt her heart quicken. She had missed playing Quidditch as a team, and now, they were going to have their first practice. Leslie grinned as she turned to Harry.

"That's great!" She exclaimed. "Who d'you think our new captain will be now that Wood's gone?" Harry shrugged.

"Dunno, but I suppose we'll find out tonight. Whoever it is, it sounds like they're pretty hardcore. Maybe Wood came back after all." He laughed. Leslie grinned.

"Well, I doubt it, although I am surprised they're starting practices so early in the year. I mean, I suppose it makes sense, but even Wood didn't start this early." Leslie suddenly felt worried. "I just hope whoever the captain is isn't as strict as Wood was."

* * *

When dinner was finished with, Harry and Leslie raced up to their dormitories to get themselves ready for Quidditch practice, and as Leslie looked out the window and sure enough, it was pouring rain! Leslie sighed, remembering the Quidditch post had said rain _or_ shine.

Moping, Leslie pulled on a large red hoodie, and grabbed the Quidditch goggles Harry had bought her for her birthday. She met Harry in the common room, holding up her goggles.

"Thanks, by the way." She said, motioning toward the window. Harry sighed.

"I know, well, maybe it won't be a long practice." He replied, as the two left the common room and headed out the castle.

Well, not only was it raining cats and dogs, but it was _freezing._ Leslie immediately wished she had brought gloves, but who would have thought weather like this was possible at the beginning of September? Instead, she stuck her hands inside her oversized sleeves.

They arrived on the Quidditch pitch to find Fred and George Weasley, as well as Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, all huddled together under the stands to stay dry. Harry and Leslie ran over, joining in. Leslie had to admit, she was quite surprised to see Alicia there, and immediately felt her stomach sink. Alicia was one of the Chasers during Leslie's second year, but stepped down to focus more on her schoolwork, opening up a spot on the Quidditch team, the spot Leslie had taken. She nervously approached her, feeling tears sting her eyes. Did this mean Leslie would be kicked off the team? She swallowed.

"Hey Alicia." She greeted calmly. Alicia turned to her with a smile.

"Hey Leslie, how are you?" She asked. Leslie nodded toward the sky.

"Terrific." She replied. "I thought you were done with Quidditch. You here to watch?" Alicia laughed.

"No, I couldn't bear last year without Quidditch, so they let me back on the team. But I'll be playing Keeper this year, just for something different, and now that Oliver's gone, they needed a Keeper anyhow. Besides, I'm better at Keep than Chaser anyway." She explained. Leslie breathed out. She couldn't help but feel relieved. She didn't know what she would do without Quidditch. It had been one of the greatest things she had been looking forward to all summer. Even if it _was_ pouring rain.

Leslie looked around and realized they were missing a player, where was Angelina? Leslie shaded her eyes to watch across the field as she saw her come running, broomstick in hand.

She arrived with a huge grin and nodded toward each member of the team.

"Hey guys," She said cheerfully, "well, I'm the new captain!" She was accepted with cheers and hand clapping from her teammates. Leslie smiled. Angelina was nice - with her as captain, life would be so much easier than it was with Wood.

Or so she thought.

"Alright, so just so we're all clear on our positions, we've got Fred and George as our Beaters, Alicia as Keeper, Katie, Leslie and myself as Chasers and, of course, Harry as Seeker." Angelina announced. "Oh, and by the way, I am determined as _ever_ to win the Quidditch cup this year!"

Everyone shouted out and screamed out their agreement as they whooped and hollered with their hands in the air. Just for the moment, everyone forgot about the rain.

"I've thought about some strategies that we're going to work through this year. We need to focus more on passing and working as a team. We won't be able to get any scoring done if we can't weave the Quaffle between the Chasers properly. If one person holds on to it the whole time, someone from the other team is going to use that to their advantage and take the Quaffle away." Angelina explained, making sure to look at Katie and Leslie as she spoke.

"Also, we can't be wussy, okay? I mean it, if you get schmucked by a Bludger, don't slow down! We're going to work on that in practice, but if we slow down for even a _moment_, the other team will also use that to their advantage." Angelina thought. "Oh and Harry? Word of advice, _don't_ go after the Snitch unless you are 100% _positive_ we have enough points to win on"

Leslie shared a glance with Harry. They knew that was a shot to one game last year, where Harry grabbed the Snitch 10 points too soon, and the other team won anyway.

"Right, so we're all going to work_ extra_ hard this year, maybe more hard than you've _ever_ worked, because that cup is _ours!_" Angelina shouted. "Let's go!"

As the team grabbed their broomsticks and headed out to the field, their hair sticking to their faces immediately as a downpour overpowered them. Leslie and Harry breathed out.

"I never thought it could be possible," Leslie shouted, "but I think Angelina's _worse_ than Wood!" Harry laughed.

* * *

Four hours later, the rain seemed to be torrentially worse than it was when they started, and Leslie could hardly see two feet in front of her, which made passing and scoring doubly hard. Angelina's voice echoed through the rain, yelling at them to try harder, swoop lower, throw harder. Leslie's muscles were throbbing, and her hair was blocking her face, thankfully she could keep her eyes open though, with the goggles Harry gave her.

Finally, Angelina called her team together, and Leslie thought with a growing sense of relief that practice was finally over. Her fingers were raw from the cold, and she couldn't feel her upper arms. Her face was like ice.

But she was quickly disappointed.

"Alright, Harry, George, Fred and Alicia, you guys can go. I want to keep the Chasers here for a little extra time, because I was _not_ happy with the teamwork tonight." Angelina called.

Leslie sank, and sadly watched as Harry shot her one glance, offered a sympathetic smile and flew down to the ground.

It was another hour of passing, and scoring and crazy screaming coming from Angelina about better ways to do it. Finally, as she was drenched, tired, sore and freezing, Leslie was allowed to go.

She left her broomstick in the shed and slowly made her way up to the castle. She wanted to run, but her legs were useless. They were jelly, and worse, her jeans were sticking to her legs to make it even harder to walk.

Breathing out, she entered the castle, feeling the heat hit her cold clothes. It felt amazing.

Leslie began to cough as she tracked mud through the castle, and clung to her arms for warmth. She yawned widely and rubbed her eyes. She couldn't believe how tired she was, _five_ hours of Quidditch practice. Not even Wood was that harsh, not in weather like this.

Leslie knew it was past hours, and she wasn't supposed to be walking the hallways, so she tried to go as quietly as she could to the Gryffindor common room, but she found she wasn't alone.

Professor Crims turned a corner and saw Leslie standing there. Leslie quickly realized she must look worse than she imagined, because the look of horror that crossed Crims' face was indescribable.

"Leslie," she gasped, as she approached Leslie quickly, grabbing her arms, "what on earth happened?" Leslie sniffled and a shiver ran down her spine.

"Quidditch practice." She replied, feeling her eyes getting heavier. Crims shook her head.

"How long were you out there?" She asked. Leslie thought.

"I dunno, four, no, five hours." She replied. Crims pressed her hand to her forehead.

"What are they thinking, letting you play Quidditch in _this_ weather? You're going to catch your death of cold!" Crims took hold of Leslie's arm. "Come on then." She headed toward her office.

"Um, it's past curfew." She pointed out simply. Professor Crims didn't slow her pace.

"Not to worry," she said, turning to Leslie with a wink, "I'm a professor, remember? If anyone wants to give us a hard time, they can speak to _me._"

Professor Crims brought Leslie to her office, and sat her down in her blue, velvet chair. Leslie protested, because she was soaking wet, but Crims insisted. As Leslie sat there shivering, Professor Crims pulled out a kettle and began brewing some tea on a little stove in the corner of her office. Leslie puckered her brow as she watched.

While Crims waited for the kettle to get hot, she scurried toward a closet and pulled out a thick purple quilt and a towel. Leslie could only watch with growing curiosity as Professor Crims approached her, and gently draped the purple quilt tightly around Leslie. Crims offered a smile.

"That's better, isn't it?" She asked, rubbing Leslie's arms briskly for warmth. Leslie couldn't find any words as the kettle squealed and Professor Crims prepared two steaming cups of tea. She brought one over to Leslie, and placed it down on the table next to her, placing her own down next to it.

But she wasn't finished.

Crims walked around behind Leslie, and gently took hold of the elastic bands holding Leslie's messy, wet pigtails in place, and carefully pulled them out, letting Leslie's hair fall into her face. And, with the towel, Crims began towel-drying, _towel-drying_ Leslie's hair.

Leslie bit her lip and waited until Professor Crims dropped the towel on the floor, and took a seat across from Leslie, taking her tea in her hands. She smiled warmly.

"Feel better?" She asked.

Leslie couldn't find the words. Crims tilted her head.

"What?" She asked with a curious smile.

Leslie shook her head.

"It's just..." Leslie couldn't put her finger on it. Well, that wasn't true, she _could_, but she wasn't about to say anything. The truth was, nobody had ever done what Professor Crims had just done. Her mother had certainly never looked at her when she was drenched with rain and mud and brewed her tea and dried her hair. She would simply turn her nose up in disgust and tell her to take a bath. But no, this was something different - something new. Leslie swallowed, ignoring the fresh tears threatening.

"It's just...you didn't use magic for any of that. You could have used the _Calfecto _charm for the tea, or...or the _Arefacio_ spell to dry my clothes and hair...so, why didn't you? You're a _witch!_" Leslie pointed out. Crims smiled, and sipped her tea carefully.

"Leslie, you are a very smart girl, but you are missing something very important. You see, I believe magic is overrated." She placed her tea down and stared at Leslie very seriously. "Not all of life's problems can be solved with it."


	13. Hogsmeade

Leslie tightened her scarf around her neck, and clutched her body for warmth. The hoodie she was wearing was not as thick as she would have liked it, but she hadn't realized it would be so chilly that first weekend in September.

Still, nothing could have tampered with Leslie's mood that morning. It was Saturday, and it was their first scheduled trip into Hogsmeade. Leslie and her friends had been ripped off the previous year, which was supposed to be their first time allowed into the wizarding town, but the dangerous Black Fog had been responsible for the cancelled trips that year. Now, Leslie, Harry, Hermione and Ron were standing outside the castle with everyone third year or higher, waiting to hand in their permission forms so they could head over to Hogsmeade. Leslie was so excited, but she also felt a little nervous. Not for herself, but for Harry. They were going to be meeting Sirius Black for the first time - it would be Harry's first time coming face to face with his godfather, the very man he had once thought responsible for the deaths of his parents. Harry was visibly worried. Leslie had tried to convince him not to worry - Sirius didn't know Harry had blamed him like that. They would be able to start fresh. Still, Harry was nervous. This man was his father's best friend, once upon a time. As excited as Harry was about hearing and learning more about his dad, it also felt very strange.

"Don't worry, Harry, it'll be great!" Hermione added. Ron nodded.

"Yeah, I mean, he sounds great in his letters." He said. Harry could only nod and force a smile. Leslie could tell it wouldn't matter what any of them said - he would still be nervous.

"Alright, I need Gryffindor's permission slips, please and thank you." Professor McGonagall's voice boomed over the crowd as she wove her way through the crowd of bustling students. Harry, Ron, Leslie and Hermione gave McGonagall their permission slips; Leslie made sure she had hers folded up the whole time, so nobody would see who had signed hers. Professor McGonagall gave her an approving glance as Leslie and her friends joined the rest of the students heading for the front gates. She felt McGonagall's hand on her shoulder. Leslie stopped and looked up.

"Mind yourself in Hogsmeade, please Leslie," McGonagall said quietly, "I may be a chaperone, but I will not be following _you_ around the whole time. Please behave." Leslie wanted to roll her eyes. McGonagall would always see the foursome as the troublemakers.

"Yes ma'am." Leslie said meekly, running to join her friends at the gates. She told them what McGonagall had just said. Ron laughed.

"Blimey, you've got it so bad, having your grandmother in the same castle. I swear, if my mum was here, I'd jump off the astronomy tower before I'd want to deal with her!" He exclaimed. Leslie hit him hard.

"Whizbees, don't say things like _that_! It's not _that_ bad." She said, turning around to catch McGonagall looking away quickly. Leslie sighed. _Well, not all the time anyway._

Leslie waited with the rest of the students until the three Hogsmeade chaperones were ready to go. Professor McGonagall, Professor Wizengamut and Professor Crims spread themselves out throughout the group of students, and as a whole, they began their walk to Hogsmeade.

"Thank goodness Snape wasn't a chaperone. We'd end up with a detention for buying a Butterbeer." Ron complained. Leslie laughed.

"Ron, you're giving him too much credit," she raised an eyebrow, "Gryffindor would be in the negatives by the end of the day just because we didn't cross the _street_ to his liking."

Leslie folded her arms for warmth as they continued to walk, and it wasn't long before Professor Crims walked past them, glancing over with a smile.

"Hello you four," she took a quick glance at Leslie and smiled a little, "oh Leslie, zip up that sweater, won't you? You'll catch a chill." As she walked away, Leslie's fingers went to her sweater to zip up her hoodie. Ron glanced sideways at her.

"D'you think she has any kids?" He asked suddenly. Leslie turned and puckered her brow.

"Who?" She asked.

"Crims."

"I don't think so," Hermione pointed out, "I don't think any of the professors have families. Hogwarts is their home. But why do you ask?"

"It's just...I dunno, Crims kind of acts like she's a mum sometimes." Ron replied.

Leslie's stomach kind of sank.

"Yeah, you're right, she does seem to have that gentleness." Hermione agreed.

Leslie and Harry shared a glance. It kind of bothered her a little to think about. Of course, how was _she_ supposed to know what a mum was supposed to be like? Harry either. They had both grown up as orphans. Well, Leslie had parents, but she might as well have been an orphan for the amount of time she actually _saw_ her mum and dad.

She cleared her throat.

"Yeah," she pretended to agree, "yeah she's kind of like that."

Harry was the only one who understand her quick change of subject to Quidditch.

* * *

Finally, they arrived in Hogsmeade and everyone went crazy. The students all split up to go to different stores, and the professors divided themselves up amongst the long street to be available should anything get out of hand.

Hermione, Ron, Leslie and Harry looked up and down the street eagerly, wondering where they could go first.

"Wait, before we do anything, Harry, are we supposed to meet Sirius somewhere? What time?" Hermione asked. Harry thought about it, and then shrugged.

"He didn't say anything, except that he would find us. I suppose that means we can just carry on and wait for him to meet up with us." He replied.

That was that. Ron immediately insisted on going to Zonko's Joke Shop. Since nobody else had any pressing plans, they followed a running Ron down the street into the shop.

Leslie was never one to enjoy practical jokes, especially having spent one summer with Fred and George Weasley using her as a guinea pig for all their terrible jokes they deemed funny, but still, she quite enjoyed Zonko's and even purchased some Dungbombs in the secret hope she would be able to plant some outside Slytherin's common room when Malfoy was on his way to class. Ron, of course, wanted to buy everything, but his limited amount of gold prevented him from doing that. When Ron wasn't looking, Leslie picked up a couple of Sugar Quills Ron had been eyeing. Hermione gave Leslie a disapproving glare.

"_Leslie,_ he has a hard enough time paying attention in class, giving him _candy_ isn't going to help him!" Hermione scolded. Leslie scoffed.

"Please, Hermione, candy or no candy, Ron's _never_ going to pay attention in class. We might as well accept the fact we'll be helping him with homework until we graduate." She replied as she paid the clerk. Hermione went off, muttering something about her parents' having a fit. Well, that was true. They _were_ dentists, after all. Leslie's stomach churned when she thought about Mr. and Mrs. Granger and she quickly busied herself with joining Harry over by the Hiccup Sweets.

"I was just imagining putting one of these on Snape's desk." Harry admitted, while Leslie laughed.

"He'd know it was us." Leslie replied, looking up at Harry with a grin. The two were silent for a moment, as they looked at each other with smiles across their faces. It was an odd sort of moment, Leslie thought, but Harry looked away and picked up a package.

"Well," he said with a shrug, "can't hurt to buy them anyway." Leslie nodded, as Harry walked away to buy his Sweets. She watched after him for a moment before she decided to join Hermione outside while the boys finished their shopping.

Hermione, finally impatient with the amount of time the boys were spending in the joke shop, peeked her head in after several minutes and yelled at them to hurry up, because she didn't want to spend the whole day waiting outside in the cold.

"I want to do _other_ things too, you know! And Sirius is coming - we have to make time for him as well!" She yelled. It was still another several minutes before Harry and Ron walked out, Harry with a small parcel and Ron empty-handed and looking as glum as ever. On their way to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop (Hermione practically had to beg them to go there), Leslie handed Ron his Sugar Quills, which he accepted with pink ears, a grin and a thank you. He started to open one up right then, but Leslie told him he should wait until they were in History of Magic, the most boring class they had together. Hermione shot them a level look, but Ron stuffed the Quill back in its parcel, shooting Leslie a smile.

Hermione was taking ages in Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, and Leslie was growing anxious to see something else. She really wanted to go into Honeydukes, the sweet shop down the way, and finally, after Leslie and the boys complained a few times, Hermione huffed.

"Fine, go to Honeydukes. I'll meet you there." She said, distracted by a new set of golden quills. Leslie and the boys practically _ran_ from the Quill Shop to Honeydukes, and it wasn't long before they were sampling the newest flavour of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bean - Tripe. Leslie gagged and Ron laughed so hard he got his bean stuck in his throat. Harry thumped him on the back and the bean went flying, hitting a shopkeeper on the back of the head. Leslie stifled a giggle as Ron went to hide behind a display of Fizzing Whizbees.

Hermione joined them soon afterwards and bought a set of Toothflossing Stringments, which she said she had planned to save for her mum and dad for Christmas. Leslie ignored her, buying herself some Droobles and Liquorice Wands.

She shared her candy with Ron, Harry and Hermione as they walked down the street toward Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop, hoping for a hot drink to warm up. As they passed the Hog's Head, they saw Professor Wizzie sitting at a table outside, downing what looked to be her fourth pint. Harry, Ron, Leslie and Hermione quickly stepped up the pace, hoping they wouldn't be seen. Once they were out of earshot, Leslie looked to her friends with a wide mouth.

"Now she's _drinking?_ Honestly, you guys, this Snape and Wizzie thing is getting out of hand!" She exclaimed.

"I agree. Wizzie has always been so cheerful and friendly. Now, well, it's very sad." Hermione said. Harry and Ron nodded.

"Something's got to be done." Leslie said, as she and her friends took a seat at an outside booth at Madame Puddifoot's. Harry stared at her incredulously.

"What do you mean, something's got to be done?" He wanted to know. Ron paled.

"You don't mean...I mean, you're not _seriously_ thinking they...they should get back together?" He asked. Leslie raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have any better ideas?" She wanted to know.

Nobody did.

"Hello Harry." A fifth voice broke in and the four teens quickly looked up to see a man they hardly recognized. It took a moment before Leslie realized this must be Sirius Black. Of course, he looked much different than his pictures in the Daily Prophet. Then, as a prisoner in Azkaban, he had a thick beard and matted long hair. Now, his hair was slightly shorter, more tame and he had shaved off the beard. Only bits of stubble remained now.

Harry was silent for a moment, as he stared at the man he once hated. It must have been an awkward moment for him, realizing who he was. Sirius smiled down at Harry, and extended his hand.

Harry paused a moment, before he reached out his own hand and shook it.

"Very nice to meet you, Harry, I'm Sirius," he paused, taking Harry in, "you look so much like your father, Harry. Only, your eyes, you know, you've got your mum's eyes." Harry seemed to light up upon hearing this, and he nodded his head.

"Thanks," Harry paused, and then cleared his throat, "er, want to join us?" Sirius smiled, and took a seat between Harry and Ron, smiling at each of the friends in turn. Harry jumped into action. Clearly, he was a little nervous.

"Oh right, this is Ron, Hermione and Leslie." Harry explained. Sirius smiled, shaking Hermione's hand and Ron's, but when he got to Leslie, he stood up, took her hand in his own, and leaned down to kiss her hand. Leslie blushed, looking away.

"I owe you my life, miss," Sirius said humbly, "if it weren't for your testimony, I would still be in Azkaban." Leslie smiled a little.

"It was nothing, really." She said, although what she had been through to get that testimony...she shuddered, still remembering the pain she had been in from the Cruciatus Curse.

It was then that Madame Puddifoot came out and took everyone's orders. Sirius told the waitress it was all on him. The four teens thanked him.

"Enjoying your freedom, then?" Ron asked when his hot chocolate arrived. He drank it much too fast and then complained about having a burnt tongue.

"Oh yes, I enjoy it very much. You know, it is quite different, and I'm still getting looks from the odd witch or wizard. It's strange, I mean, by now, _everyone_ has heard the truth about Pettigrew. Still, I suppose residing in Azkaban for twelve years is sure to turn a few heads. Not many survive the Dementers, you know." Sirius replied. Hermione looked at him curiously.

"Mr. Black -"

"No, no, my dear. Just Sirius."

"Okay, Sirius. I wondered, how were you able to find us in Hogsmeade? I mean, there are students everywhere. And you'd never _met_ Harry before. How did you know it was us?" Hermione wanted to know. Sirius laughed a little.

"Oh that was easy, I simply followed Harry's scent." He said. Ron, Leslie, Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.

"His...scent?" Leslie asked.

"Oh yes. From his letter." He waited, still seeing the looks of absolute confusion on the children's faces. "Oh, you see, I'm an Animagus. My form is a dog. I came into Hogsmeade in my dog form, and sniffed my way to Harry. I turned back into me just a few feet away." Ron's eyes were wide.

"That is _so_ cool!" He exclaimed.

"That's like Professor McGonagall, she can transfigure herself into a cat." Leslie replied. Sirius nodded, recognizing the name. Leslie paused, contemplating whether or not she should say anything, and then decided it wouldn't hurt. "She's my grandmother. I only found out in my first year, but you can't tell _anyone!_ None of the other students know my grandmother is a professor." Sirius smiled, and traced his fingers in an X-shape over his heart.

"Cross my heart, Leslie, your secret's safe with me," he gave an approving nod, "good family to come from." Leslie rolled her eyes, thinking about her parents. _Some family._

"Well it's not like I really_ knew_ I was a witch until I turned 11. My mum and dad were Muggles and they never told me about my grandmother." Leslie explained. Sirius shrugged and waved his hand.

"You know, there are some who believe that some wizarding families are better than others because of their bloodline, but you know, blood doesn't make a difference. Pure-blood, half-blood, Muggle-born, it doesn't matter, you know. However, there are some families that don't see it that way. Families like, say, oh the Malfoys for example. I trust you've heard of them?" Leslie felt sick with anger.

"Yeah well that's because the whole lot of them are Deatheaters!" She exclaimed, earning an elbow in her ribs from Hermione, who motioned for her to keep her voice down. Sirius, however, grew more interested.

"Why would you say that?" He wanted to know. Leslie looked to Harry, who breathed out, and turned to Sirius.

"In our second year, a girl from Hufflepuff was put under the Imperius Curse and she poisoned a whole bunch of people from Hogsmeade and..." Harry looked cautiously at Leslie, "and a boy from Gryffindor. Leslie found out it was Lucius Malfoy who was controlling Tenille, but nobody believed us because it was Leslie's word against his." Sirius stared worriedly at Leslie.

"You're sure?" He asked. Leslie nodded.

"He practically admitted it to me," she replied, "and that's not the worst part." She remembered her meeting with Lucius in Knockturn Alley.

"What is?" Sirius asked. Before she knew it, Leslie was telling Sirius all about Mr. Malfoy's threats to her over the summer. Sirius leaned back against his seat, wide-eyed.

"Have you told Dumbledore?" He asked. Harry snorted.

"Of course not. Nobody believed us about the Imperius Curse, why would they believe us about this?" He asked. Hermione shrugged.

"Besides, we're at Hogwarts. It's the safest place we can be." She pointed out. Sirius shook his head.

"That may be, but I do strongly advise you not to take these threats lightly. Even though nobody believes you, Leslie, _I_ do, and you are _still_ children. You cannot fight dark magic on your own." He paused. "Be sure you all stick together, alright? These are dark times. Poisonings, the conjuring of the Black Fog, it all points to Lord Voldemort. Please be careful." Leslie puckered her brow, finally taking a sip of her hot cherry smoothie.

"What do you think he meant? Lucius - about Voldemort needing me for his purposes?" She asked, feeling her heart beating slightly. She hadn't given it a lot of thought, what with her first of classes giving her enough to think about on its own.

Sirius breathed out.

"I don't know, Leslie, but I strongly advise you not to leave anybody's sight outside of the castle. You're right, you're safe within Hogwarts, but when you are on your Hogsmeade trips, do _not_ separate from each other. As I said," Sirius pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet, sliding it over, "these are dark times."

Hermione pulled the paper toward herself and her eyes widened.

"Deatheaters are escaping from Azkaban?" She asked, beginning to read from the story. Leslie's stomach churned as she stared over Hermione's shoulder. Sirius simply nodded. Hermione shook her head.

"I don't understand, how can they escape? I thought Dementers were _impossible_ to get past!" She exclaimed, looking in the text for some kind of reasonable explanation. Sirius didn't say anything, and in his silence, it all of a sudden made sense.

"Unless the Dementers have been compromised." Harry realized. Leslie's heart began beating, imagining what that could mean. There were already three Deatheaters Leslie knew were marching around. Pettigrew, Lestrange and Malfoy. Now there were more. What if they were banding together? The thought made Leslie want to be sick.

"Something's coming, isn't it?" Leslie asked, feeling her face drain of color. For three years, they had escaped death and had twice stopped Voldemort from rising to power. They wouldn't be able to stop it forever, would they? Especially with his followers flocking back to him. It would only be a matter of time.

"I agree. He's gathering up his followers for a reason. I don't know what it is, but it is very important you four stick together, and be extra careful! Especially you, Leslie. If Voldemort wants you for something, it's best you stay as far away from compromising situations as possible. Don't go _anywhere_ alone, and I daresay it wouldn't be harmful to study up on some defensive spells. Harry, you as well. Voldemort has wanted you dead for the last thirteen years. You two are targets right now, and maybe no one is taking that seriously, but _I_ am. You all need to stay safe." Sirius replied. He looked at a pocket watch. "Well, I must bid you farewell, you will be returning to Hogwarts soon, and I shall be expected back at the Leaky Cauldron. Oh yes, I got a job there. Busing tables, but it's something isn't it?" He stood up and shook everyone's hands again.

"I will see you all again soon, I hope. Harry, keep writing, won't you? It was good to have met you, all of you." Sirius said with a smile. They all said the same, and watched as Sirius walked a few feet away from the Tea Shop and slowly transfigured into a large dog. As the dog ran away, Leslie smiled after him.

"You know," she said with a tilt of her head, "as a dog, he kind of looks like a 'Snuffles." Harry glared at her with a roll of his eyes.

"Leslie, he's a _wizard_, not a pet!" He complained. Leslie laughed and shrugged.

"I still think he looks like a 'Snuggles." She muttered.

They quickly finished their hot drinks, until Professor Crims rounded them up for the trip back to Hogwarts.

As the four walked out of earshot from the rest of the students, they all talked about how great Sirius was. Leslie, however, was a little distracted. She couldn't help but feel nervous. Sirius was worried - he was the first adult who was. Although, it wasn't as though Leslie was exactly _broadcasting_ her meeting with Lucius Malfoy. She wondered if she should have told her grandmother, but she had simply figured it wouldn't matter. She wouldn't be believed.

But Sirius believed her, and he was worried, and that made Leslie more nervous than anything else. Malfoy had said Voldemort wanted her for something, but _what? _And now, with Deatheaters escaping from Azkaban, Leslie feared something bad was going to happen, and _soon._

It didn't make any sense to Leslie, though. Why would Voldemort want _her?_ Voldemort had never expressed an interest in Leslie, in fact, he had ordered Quirrel to _kill_ her during their first year. The truth was, it was _Harry_ Voldemort wanted. He wanted to be able to kill Harry with his own hands. Harry was the prize, but what was Leslie?

Then she remembered what Harry had said to her in June, right before summer holidays.

"_Is it...is it really worth it, to be my friend?" He asked, pausing a little to pick at the grass. "Voldemort isn't going to give up on me. He's been trying to kill me since he killed my parents. He's only going to keep trying until he gets me, and he'll use what I care about the most to get to me." _

Leslie's stomach jolted, as she remembered that conversation. In fact, the whole reason Bellatrix Lestrange had lured her to the Isle of the Black Fog last year was to use her as bait for Harry Potter. Was it really true, then? Did Voldemort's purposes for Leslie have to do with her being friends with Harry? Maybe Voldemort didn't really want Leslie at all. Maybe he only wanted Harry, and he knew that Harry would stop at nothing to protect his friends.

Leslie kept this thought to herself. She would _not_ tell Harry. He would feel all guilty and try to push her away, and Leslie couldn't let that happen. No matter what kind of danger they were in, she would not lose her friendship with Harry. That was more valuable than her safety, or her life.


	14. The Pact

As September had slowly faded into October, the invasion of colder weather didn't help to lift the moods of Leslie and her friends. The past few weeks had been dreadful, absolutely _dreadful._ Leslie had already lost count of how many detentions she and the others had endured with Professor Snape over the past few weeks. Between the four of them, they had suffered through his torturous detentions for reasons such as asking a question, yawning, clearing their throat, and spilling ink. Leslie got a detention one evening because she apparently _looked_ at Snape the wrong way.

Not only that, but the Gryffindor hourglass had the least amount of sand, as the blue, yellow and green sand from the other three houses nearly tripled what little red sand the Gryffindors had. Snape took away points from Gryffindor every chance he got, and being that Leslie and her three friends were Wizzie's favourites, they were the ones who were forced to go to detentions with Snape at least twice a week.

Some of the other Gryffindor students were already giving the foursome a cold shoulder, believing them to be the ones responsible for the lack of house points Gryffindor should be receiving. Leslie was getting right sick of it. It wasn't even October yet, she could not take Snape's detentions twice or three times a week for the next nine months. She would go mad.

It was a Friday morning in the middle of October, and it was a right chore for Leslie to pull herself out of bed. Friday meant double Potions. Leslie was still nursing a headache from the fumes she had inhaled the previous night when Snape had her clean out several cauldrons of _Suffio_ Potion the seventh years had been brewing all day. Still, she considered herself lucky. Ron had spent his evening in the hospital wing, undergoing a treatment that would help the gills that had formed on his arms thanks to Snape's _Echeneis_ brew to dissolve back into regular skin.

Either way, the foursome were in sour moods as they gathered their books at breakfast and trudged their way down into the dungeons to endure a morning's worth of potions. Leslie made it her goal to get through it without obtaining another detention. She didn't feel very confidant about it, but still, it was worth a try. She would hold her breath if she felt like sneezing, she would make sure she paid attention and take detailed notes, she would be sure to stare at the chalkboard, not at Snape, and she would ensure to answer every question with a 'sir' attached.

Professor Snape entered the room, and Leslie pulled out her quill, and set up her parchment and opened her potions textbook. While Snape was writing something on the board, Leslie brought her fingers up to her forehead, with a bit of a moan. Her head was still pounding from those fumes. She would have to go see Madame Pomfrey later for some medicine.

But it was at that moment that Snape decided to turn around.

"Fumes still bothering you, _Perks?_" He asked with a sneer. Leslie looked up and stared at him quietly. He smirked a little. "A little headache never killed anyone. 10 points from Gyffindor for being a baby." As he turned back to his notes, Leslie shot a look at Harry, who had clenched his mouth shut to keep himself from spewing off every curse word he knew. Leslie breathed out slowly through her nostrils, and began taking notes. _Well, we're off to a _terrific_ start!_

Throughout the class, Snape took points away because Parvati's shoe fell off and she reached down to put it back on, he took points away because he could hear Seamus chewing his gum, he even took points away because Lavender raised her hand to answer a question too quickly, according to Snape.

So it was a typical day in potions, but so far, Leslie was doing alright. She hadn't been given a detention yet, and there was only twenty minutes left of the class. She watched the clock on the wall patiently. She would do it. She would leave here today without a detention.

But that was when Harry leaned over to her.

"Leslie, my quill broke, can I borrow one of yours?" He asked in a low whisper. Before Leslie could even reach into her bag, Snape whipped around and was in front of their desk in seconds. Leslie froze.

"What's this? Speaking out in class, Potter? Perks, no doubt you're letting him copy your notes?" Snape said in his menacing voice. Leslie was outraged.

"No, _sir, _Harry broke his quill, I was just-"

"Yes, yes, feed me your pathetic excuses, but I shall see you two tomorrow night for detention. Gryffindor will also lose another 30 points."

Leslie ignored the groans coming from her fellow Gryffindor students. Passing the quill to Harry when Snape wasn't looking, she moodily went back to her notes, no longer caring how decently she performed. She hadn't made it, but she faced the ugly truth - no matter _how_ decent a student she was, Snape would still give her detentions. He had it in for them, but Leslie had enough.

* * *

"Alright, _that_ does it! I can't stand this anymore!" Harry exclaimed as the four walked toward the Great Hall for lunch. Ron nodded.

"I agree, blimey, that man has it in for us." He added.

"It's bad enough to see Wizzie in a constant state of misery, but if this stuff continues on with Snape, we won't have any free time whatsoever. We'll be spending it all with Snape." Leslie moped.

"Yeah, and I don't know how much longer I can stand cleaning out pots of who knows what? I swear, I can still see a gill on my arm." He pointed to a red spot. "See?"

Leslie didn't, but she understood his anger.

"Alright then, listen. We all agree this has gone on for far too long, right? So I suggest we make a pact. I know we hate Snape, but this has reached its limit. I say we do _whatever_ we can, within our power, to get Snape and Wizzie back together." She explained.

"But...isn't that sort of _helping_ Snape?" Ron asked. Leslie rolled her eyes. Hermione understood.

"No, Ronald. Don't you see? It doesn't matter how ridiculous or unreasonable their relationship is. Wizzie was happier, and Snape was less...well, evil, I suppose." She added.

"Yeah, I mean, I know it kind of goes against everything we think about Snape, 'cause it looks like we're helping him out, but we're not doing it for Snape, we're doing it for Gryffindor." Harry pointed out.

"And for Professor Wizzie." Leslie added. Hermione, Harry and Ron nodded, and the four friends brought their hands together, and made a vow that they would do everything they could to bring back the oddest relationship Hogwarts has ever seen.

* * *

Leslie's headache grew worse as the day continued on, and History of Magic didn't help matters. Professor Binns droned on in his usual boring way, and Leslie had a very hard time staying awake. She was thankful for Harry who kept poking her mercilessly in the side to keep her awake. She was sure a bruise would form from his poking, but she didn't care.

Finally, Defence Against the Dark Arts rolled around, and Leslie felt a little more relaxed. Professor Crims always taught them neat stuff, and Leslie didn't have to worry about earning any detentions or falling asleep. No, Crims' class was the perfect way to end a horrible day.

Although, it was terribly hard to pay attention to anything, no matter _how_ interesting it was, with a headache like Leslie had. She couldn't wait for class to be over so she could beg Madame Pomfrey for some kind of potion. She reduced herself to massaging her temples carefully, the way she sometimes noticed Professor McGonagall doing when she scolded Leslie for her bad behaviours. It didn't really help anything, and Leslie leaned over and asked Hermione if she'd be able to borrow her notes later. She wasn't even able to concentrate, her head was pounding so badly.

Finally, the bell rang, and Leslie gathered her things together.

"Leslie, can I have a moment?" Professor Crims called out. Leslie sighed. Madame Pomfrey would have to wait.

She told her friends she would meet them in the common room, as she approached Crims' desk.

"Leslie, dear, you're awfully pale, and you seem to have a bad headache. You alright?" Crims asked. Leslie breathed out.

"Yes, I'm alright. I'm just going to go up to the hospital wing and see if I can get something for the headache." She replied.

"Leslie, you and your friends have come into my class every Monday and Friday with everything from burnt fingers, to headaches. What in the world is going on?" Professor Crims asked, growing concerned. Leslie sighed. If Snape found out she ratted on him, he would give her another detention.

But then, he would find a reason anyway.

"Well, you see Professor, last year, well, and the year before I suppose, Professor Snape and Professor Wizzie-, er, Wizengamut, were seeing each other. You know, going out. Well, I suppose they broke up this summer. It's been absolutely dreadful ever since. Professor Wizzie is miserable all the time, and her classes have become nothing more than her going on about how much Muggles have it easier than witches, and _Snape_! That's a whole other story. He's giving detentions to Gryffindors, _especially_ the four of us, he's been taking away points for stupid reasons, and his detentions always end up with one of us in the hospital wing. So we don't really have a choice - we're going to get them back together. I don't care how stupid it is, because if they don't get back together, we'll be serving detentions with Snape until graduation!" Leslie said in one long run-on sentence. She took a breath out, and brought her fingers to her forehead.

Professor Crims smiled, and took out her wand, pointing it at Leslie's temple.

"Hold still, Leslie," she cleared her throat, "_Solacium._"

Immediately, Leslie's headache was gone. Leslie was surprised - she didn't know ailments could be cured with magic, not with a wand anyway.

But before she could say anything, Crims leaned forward.

"Now to fix the other problem, getting Professor Snape and Professor Wizzie back together," she winked, "I think I may have a way..."

* * *

Upon arriving back at the common room, she found a note from Hermione that said the three of them would be in the library to do their homework. So Leslie quickly grabbed her books and headed down to the library where she found Harry, Hermione and Ron sitting at a table. Leslie joined them, and Ron was quickly by her side, asking if she would help him with his Transfiguration essay. Hermione had already said no.

"In a minute, but guess what Professor Crims just told me? She told me a way to get Wizzie and Snape back together!" Leslie said excitedly, pulling out her Transfiguration textbook. Ron raised an eyebrow.

"You _told_ Crims?" He asked. Leslie looked up to realize Harry and Hermione were staring at her as well. She shrugged.

"It came up. She wanted to know if I was alright. You know, because of my headache. She wondered why we were coming into class everyday with burnt fingers or headaches or gills," she shot a look at Ron, "so I told her about Wizzie and Snape. Then she gave me an idea." Ron snorted.

"Blimey Leslie, why is it that you always end up being someone's favourite student?" He asked. Leslie narrowed her eyebrows.

"That's not true, Ron!" She said defensively. Ron nodded his head.

"Yeah it is, okay first there's McGonagall." He pointed out. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That's different, _Ronald!_ In case you've forgotten, McGonagall is Leslie's grandmother." She pointed out. Ron shrugged.

"Alright, then Wizzie." He added. Harry shook his head.

"Nah, she fancies the lot of us. Not just Leslie." He said, shooting a smile at Leslie, who shot him a glance of appreciation. Ron shrugged.

"Well, what about Crims? Come on, you can't deny that." He said, looking to Harry and Hermione for support. Leslie was waiting for someone to shoot him down again, but instead, Hermione nodded.

"She has sort of taken a liking toward you, Leslie." She agreed. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, she talks to you a lot more than anybody else." He added. Leslie shut her Transfiguration book loudly, and shoved it back in her bag.

"Look, it's only because of what happened that first day when she found out about my parents! She's just...she's just trying to be nice. It's not like she's playing favourites or anything!" Leslie, ignoring the looks on her friends' faces, grabbed her bag and stormed out of the library for unknown reasons. She didn't know why she was so upset. She wondered if her friends were jealous of the attention she was getting from Professor Crims, and she quickly shook her head at even thinking that were true. Her friends were not the jealous types, and she felt angry for even _thinking_ they might be.

She ran to the common room, feeling things she knew weren't even related to what had just happened in the library. She had brought up her parents again, and that made her mad because now she was thinking about her childhood again, and how angry she was.

Leslie entered her dormitory, and upon finding it was empty, dropped her bag and kicked the cupboard angrily, causing a stack of envelopes to fall from the top of it.

There were at least ten envelopes there, all addressed to Leslie, all from the same person. Mrs. Granger had been writing to her since school had started, and Leslie hadn't written back a single time. She didn't want to. She didn't even have to read the letters to know what they said. _I'm worried about you. I wish you would write back. Hermione tells me you've been awfully quiet._

Leslie picked up the stack of envelopes and stared at them, thinking about what she would say if she wrote back. She couldn't tell them the truth, the truth that she couldn't even admit to Hermione, who was her best friend. That she was completely jealous of what Hermione had, that she couldn't stand to be at the Grangers' house because it was a constant reminder of what she never, _could_ never have? Three summers spent at the Grangers' house showed Leslie that Hermione got what Leslie didn't. True, these feelings had never been this strong before, but she wasn't going to deny that she always felt like she was living in the shadows at the Grangers' over the last few summers. It wasn't as though the Grangers' ignored her; they included her in everything just as much as Hermione, but Leslie was always consciously aware of the fact that none of this really belonged to Leslie. She was an orphan who had nowhere else to stay, and the Grangers' just happened to agree to help out.

Leslie breathed out, as she placed the envelopes back on her cupboard, and turned to see Hermione entering the room. Leslie knew Hermione had seen her holding the letters, and she turned away. She was immediately thankful that Hermione didn't say anything about the letters. She already felt angry enough for whatever reason; she didn't need Hermione chastising her again for not writing to her parents.

Hermione placed her bag down at the end of her bed and cleared her throat.

"Are you okay, Leslie?" Hermione asked after a moment's silence. Leslie sighed, falling on her own bed.

"Yes, I'm alright, I just don't understand why everyone is so upset about Crims." Leslie admitted. Hermione exhaled.

"Nobody's _upset_, Leslie! We were just making a point, and you don't have to get so defensive about it. Anyway, _I_ think it's a good thing that Crims has taken such a liking toward you, Leslie." She explained, taking a seat on her own bed. Leslie raised herself up on her elbows to stare at her friend.

"Why?" She asked, puckering her brow. Hermione stared back at her.

"Because, Leslie, it doesn't take a genius to figure out you've got stuff going on with you that you aren't telling us, things you aren't telling _me_. But I'm not stupid, I _know_ it's got something to do with my parents." She said. Leslie opened her mouth to retaliate defensively but Hermione cut her off.

"Don't deny it, Leslie, it's alright. I see the way you are around them, and I saw how you were at your birthday party. You don't have to tell me, I don't mind, but maybe you'll talk to Professor Crims about whatever's wrong, because Leslie, you shouldn't keep it to yourself, whatever it is." Hermione said quietly. Leslie was stuck for words. Hermione wasn't angry, or even upset. She just seemed concerned. A good friend, Leslie thought, it was too bad she just couldn't share with her what she was really feeling.

Instead, she simply offered a small smile. Hermione smiled back and took a look at the stack of letters cumulating on Leslie's cupboard. Leslie sighed.

"Look, you should at least write them to tell them you're alive." Hermione said. "They're beginning to think you don't like them."

Leslie breathed out, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill. She had no idea what she was supposed to say, but Hermione seemed pleased that Leslie was writing a letter. Still, Leslie made it quick and to the point.

_Mr. and Mrs. Granger,_

_I'm okay. Thank you for your letters._

_Leslie_

She borrowed Hedwig and sent the letter off, under the cheerful watch of Hermione. Leslie knew it wouldn't be long before Hermione received another letter from the Grangers, one that asked why Leslie was so short with them. She knew it would only be a matter of time before the truth came out. Christmas was just around the corner, and summer vacation...

Leslie wondered how she was going to get around all that.

* * *

Leslie spent the rest of her afternoon working on her Transfiguration essay (and Ron's, he claimed he'd forgotten everything McGonagall assigned). Hermione did her own work, assignments that weren't due for a few weeks, as she was already caught up on this week. Harry decided to slack off, and instead polish his broom up for tonight's Quidditch practice, and tomorrow's first game. Leslie had to find a balance between Quidditch and schoolwork. She always thought it was funny, she was like Hermione and Harry in different ways. She shared Harry's passion for Quidditch, but she also shared bits of Hermione's schoolwork dedication. Ever since Leslie had first discovered she was a witch, she strived to be the best. Of course, that was hard with Hermione around, but she settled for second best, and now that she had something she was good at (Dumbledore told her during her first year that she was excelling beyond average witches who just discovered their powers), she did her best to excel.

But then there was Quidditch too, and that was something else she discovered she could be good at. So it was hard to find a balance at times. Fourth year was trying, with much more homework and assignments, and with Angelina as the new captain, it was hard to find time for both. Add on Snape's detentions, and Leslie found she hardly ever had any spare time.

After dinner, Leslie met up with Harry, dressed only in hoodies, thankful it was a clear night, just a little chilly.

"At least it's not raining." Harry pointed out as they headed out the castle toward the Quidditch pitch, pulling their broomsticks along.

"I just hope it's this nice tomorrow for the game." Leslie added, pulling her hood up over her head to protect her ears from the cold wind.

"I have a feeling we'll be at practice all night, though. Angelina's been on my case all week, asking if I've been doing extra practicing on my own time." Harry said.

"You too? Honestly, I thought _Wood_ was bad." Leslie replied.

"I can't understand why she'd want you to do extra practicing. Blimey, you've gotten ten times better this year already. You're even better than Alicia and Katie, and they've been at it much longer than you have." Harry said. Leslie stopped and stared after him, a smile forming on her lips. Harry stopped and turned to stare at her.

"What?" He asked. Leslie shook her head.

"You...you really think I've gotten better?" She asked, feeling her cheeks reddening. Harry smiled.

"Yeah, I really do." He grinned at her for a moment, and she smiled back, blushing like crazy. He cleared his throat with a laugh.

"Well, except for your landings, of course." He added. Leslie rolled her eyes, glaring at him as they continued toward the Quidditch pitch.

"Well, like I said, it's not like you need landings to play Quidditch _anyway._" She pointed out. They laughed, and quickened their pace.

"So, what did Crims say about Wizzie and Snape? You said she had a plan." Harry said after a while. Leslie had forgotten all about it, and a grin crossed her lips as she remembered. As she told Harry all about it, she wondered if it would actually work, and she began to imagine her evenings opening up, relieving her from her detentions with Professor Snape and allowing time for her to spend with her three best friends.


	15. A Quidditch Record

The next morning came with the usual butterflies in Leslie's stomach when it was the morning of a game. What made it worse that particular morning was that it was their first game of the year, and what made it even worse than that was that it was against Slytherin. Leslie hardly slept the night before.

She woke up feeling groggy and nauseous as she pulled out her Quidditch uniform from her trunk, using an anti-wrinkle charm to smooth out the creases that had accumulated over the summer, and put it on. Hermione was still asleep, but then, Leslie realized it was still early. She knew she wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, not now.

On her way down to the common room, she realized a new letter from Mr. and Mrs. Granger sat on her dresser. It must have arrived by owl the night before, and Hermione must have collected it for her. Leslie, not in the mood to have to deal with this right now, went downstairs. She had enough on her mind with having to worry about the game.

Leslie found Harry laying on the couch in front of the fire, fully dressed in Quidditch gear, and dozing off and on. Leslie puckered her brow.

"What are you doing up so early?" She asked. Harry opened his eyes with a start and stared at her surprised.

"What are _you_ doing up so early?" He asked back. Leslie shrugged with a hint of blush emerging on her cheeks.

"I...well I get a little nervous before games, I suppose. I couldn't sleep very well." She admitted. Harry grinned.

"Me too," he paused, "although, I would have fallen back asleep, but if you've ever heard Ron snore..." Leslie laughed as she joined Harry on the couch, motioning toward the window.

"At least it's the perfect day." She pointed out. Harry craned his neck to take a peek.

"Yeah, I suppose it is. Well, we've practiced for hours and hours, we've _got_ to do decently, I expect." He said with a shrug. Leslie shook her head.

"Honestly, Harry, with Angelina as our captain," she sighed, "she won't be happy unless we score 500 points, and Slytherin scores 0."

The two laughed.

* * *

An hour passed and Ron and Hermione finally came downstairs wearing their house colors in order to support the Gryffindor team and together, the four went down to breakfast. Leslie wasn't surprised to see most of the Gryffindor students donning red and yellow that morning, and cheering when Harry and Leslie walked past. The first game of the year was always big for house spirit. Leslie forced herself not to look at the green and silver students entering the Great Hall and sneering at Gryffindor students. The Slytherins were in their pride mode, teasing Gryffindors. Leslie couldn't help seeing Malfoy enter in his Quidditch uniform and glare levelly toward her and Harry. She bit her lip and was secretly thankful she was a Chaser and not a Seeker, at least she wouldn't have to deal with Malfoy, who was the Slytherin Seeker.

Leslie, poking mindlessly at a muffin in front of her, nearly jumped out of her seat when Hermione suddenly spoke up.

"So I've been thinking a lot about Professor Crims' plan, you know, the one she offered as a way of getting Professor Wizzie and Snape back together? I think it's brilliant, and I think it could work. What do you think about putting it into action? Today?" She asked. Leslie smiled, surprised Hermione was suddenly interested in bending a few school rules in order to hook Snape and Wizzie back up. What surprised Leslie even more was that the entire thing had been Crims' idea.

"I think that's a great idea, but can we wait until _after_ Quidditch? I honestly don't think my heart would be completely in it with all this on my mind." Leslie replied, scooping a handful of scrambled eggs onto her plate, not feeling like picking at her muffin anymore. While Hermione, Ron and Harry nodded their agreement, Leslie was able to get one forkful of food in her mouth before a tawny brown owl interrupted them, landing right in between Harry and Leslie, with a red envelope addressed to the both of them. Leslie sighed, she quickly recognized Angelina's crafty penmanship.

_Leslie and Harry, hope all is well._

_Great, we are meeting early at the Quidditch field so come as SOON as you get this owl! It's very important!_

_Your captain, Angelina_

Leslie and Harry sighed, saying goodbye to Hermione and Ron and walking away from their breakfasts, feeling a little peckish and frustrated. Leslie never thought there would be a day when she would actually miss Oliver Wood, but now...

On their way out to the Quidditch pitch, Leslie noticed Professor Crims was sitting on a bench, reading a book. Leslie didn't catch the title, because Crims immediately looked up with a friendly grin.

"Good morning Leslie, good morning Harry. Where are you off to this early? Your game doesn't start for another hour." Crims pointed out, checking her watch. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Our captain wants us there early. She probably wants to go over some things before the game." He pointed out.

"Are you both excited to play? I gather you've been working very hard to get ready for this game. It must be so exciting to actually get to this point." Crims said, as she looked up with a smile. Leslie shrugged.

"I'm not exactly sure. I'm, well, I feel a little nervous actually." She admitted.

"Yeah, it's our first game of the season." Harry added.

"Against _Slytherin!"_ Leslie mentioned. Professor Crims laughed and gave them both a wink.

"Oh stop, you'll both do fine. In fact, I'm sure you'll play _wonderfully._ You've worked hard to get to this point and you should be very proud of your achievements, whether you win or not. But I don't think you should have any problems. I know Slytherin hasn't been practicing nearly as much as you have. You'll be awesome." Crims opened her book up to her spot again. "Good luck, the two of you. I'll be watching."

Leslie and Harry thanked her and began their trot toward the Quidditch pitch, feeling their spirits rise ever so slightly.

* * *

Angelina's reasons for having them all arrive early included them flying a few laps around the field, passing Quaffles and a rather long speech about the importance of winning this first game. It wasn't long before Leslie and her team were entering the Quidditch pitch to be greeted with loud shrieks and screams from the Gryffindor tower, and even some students from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tower were shouting their cheers. Of course, nobody from Slytherin did, but that was to be expected.

The game was underway within moments, as Madame Hooch blew her whistle and off the Golden Snitch flew, marking the beginning of the game. Leslie kicked off the ground and followed in formation with Katie and Angelina, keeping her eyes peeled for Bludgers and making sure she was keeping a clear path toward the goal posts if she was ever passed the Quaffle.

Angelina did a kind of swoop on her broomstick and snuck in behind one of the Slytherin Chasers, stealing the Quaffle from him, as Fred whacked a Bludger his way. As he lost balance, Angelina sped away, passing the Quaffle to Katie, who passed it back to Angelina, who then proceeded to pass it to Leslie. Leslie was the closest to the goal posts, and as she caught the ball, she ducked a Bludger, avoided a Slytherin Chaser and tossed the Quaffle right past the Slytherin Keeper into the middle goalpost.

Gryffindor cheers echoed through the stadium as the play continued. Leslie smiled to herself, happy to have scored the first goal, and quickly put her concentration back into the game, ready for whatever was to come next.

Katie, Angelina and Leslie had already agreed through the week's practices that they would continue with the same game play throughout the game, because the other team would expect them to change their positions to mix them up, but the joke would be on them, because nothing was going to change. So throughout the game, Leslie hovered near the goalposts, waiting while Angelina and Katie passed her the Quaffle, and Leslie scored. One time, Leslie had caught the Quaffle, but the Slytherin Keeper was beginning to clue in to her gameplay, and so she feigned tossing the Quaffle back to Angelina, but before she threw it on one direction, she rotated her broomstick and hit the Quaffle through the goalposts, shocking both her teammates and the Slytherin Keeper. Leslie blushed when she realized Harry was watching with a proud expression.

Leslie continued to play; the game had gone on for over an hour by now, and she was unsure as to what the score was, but she had lost count as to how many times they had scored, but the Gryffindor shrieks and screams were very encouraging and motivating, as she continued to play her best. She knew things were getting heated when Lee Jordan announced that Harry and Malfoy were flying head to head above the clouds, and must have caught sight of the Golden Snitch. Leslie, Angelina and Katie shared a glance, knowing the plan. They had planned to score as many goals as they possible could once Harry found the Snitch. If they were playing well before, their performance doubled in seconds. One goal after another went through Slytherin's goalposts and it only lasted a few moments before Harry came down out of the clouds and landed on the ground, holding up a flash of yellow light.

"Harry Potter's caught the Snitch!" He waited while Gryffindor whooped and hollered, and Leslie and the rest of her team landed on the ground. "Gryffindor wins, 1000 points to 20. And, Professor McGonagall tells me that a new record has been set today. Most goals scored in the history of Hogwarts Quidditch by one player goes to Leslie Perks, who scored more goals than anybody who has ever played Quidditch on this pitch!"

Leslie felt her face draining of all color as the Gryffindor tower became a swarm of arms and flags and shrieks and hollers. Leslie could only stare up in complete shock and amazement, as Harry approached her and hugged her hard, bringing her back to reality for a brief moment, before the rest of the Gryffindor team swallowed her up with their arms. She began to laugh as the reality of what was happening began to set in. Fred and George hastily lifted her up on their shoulders and spun her around as though to display her to the crowd. Leslie breathed out, feeling her cheeks turning a bright red. It wasn't even the fact that the entire student body was watching her, it wasn't even the fact that her teammates were bouncing her up and down excitedly, no, it was the proud expression Harry wore that meant the most to her.

* * *

Leslie and Harry finally managed to pry themselves away from the team as the crowd began to thin out in the towers. Fred and George announced there would be a party in the Gryffindor Tower later, but Leslie and Harry were just happy to get away from the excitement for a little while. Ron and Hermione quickly met up with them, Hermione giving Leslie a gigantic hug.

"Congratulations, Leslie, you did fantastic!" Hermione exclaimed. Ron patted her shoulder awkwardly.

"Yeah, well done mate. Honestly, I wondered if you'd used a spell to go that quick." He said, earning him a slap from Hermione.

"Honestly, Ronald, Leslie knows better than to break rules about sports." She scolded. Leslie smiled.

"Really, Leslie, you did amazing! I'm just...well, I'm just really impressed." Harry added. Leslie blushed and cleared her throat.

"Well, come on Harry, you should really get the credit," she paused, "I never would have gotten to this point without you. You're the one who had me try out in the first place." Harry shrugged.

"Someone would have seen you playing on our own and enlisted you anyway - you're obviously a natural, way better than I ever expected." He said, causing Leslie to laugh and the four friends continued to walk toward the castle, Leslie listening to her friends brag on and on about Leslie's fine achievement for the day. Leslie was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed and modest about the whole thing - she had never enjoyed being the center of attention, but still, these were her _friends_ - that much she could handle.

They walked toward the castle, and they heard a voice calling from behind. Leslie and her friends turned to find Professor Crims walking briskly, trying to catch up with the foursome. She joined them as she caught her breath, laughing at herself, then she smiled at Leslie.

"Oh well _done_ Leslie!" Crims praised as she gathered Leslie in her arms and squeezed tightly. "Oh my dear, you did _wonderfully_.I'm so proud of you!" Professor Crims whispered the last part, which Leslie was secretly grateful for. She was getting tired of Ron's constant trying to convince Leslie she was Crims' favourite pupil.

Still Leslie smiled to herself as Professor Crims let go with a smile. As Leslie said thank you, Crims glided away, and Leslie smiled after her. It was a strange moment - what Professor Crims had said made her think about her parents. They had never told Leslie they were proud of her for anything, in fact, the only people who had ever told Leslie they were proud was her grandmother, and now Harry. But this...this seemed different somehow. Maybe Ron was right, when he had said, "Crims kind of acts like she's a mum sometimes." Maybe that was why Leslie liked her so much; Professor Crims embodied everything Leslie had never had with her own mother, and she had taken a liking to Leslie.

Leslie smiled, as she followed her friends up to the castle.


	16. A Foiled Plan

Leslie's appetite was in full force by the time they reached the Great Hall for lunch after the Quidditch game. She shoveled two full forkfuls of pasta into her mouth before her friends even filled their plates. Surprised nobody commented on her Ron-like appetite, she finished filling her plate and went full force into discussing their plan for the afternoon.

"Alright, I know we already talked about this, but maybe we should go over it again, you know, to make sure we all know what we're doing? I mean, we might not get another chance." Leslie pointed out.

"Blimey, it _better_ work. I hate Snape, and I don't want to see him happy, but bloody hell, I can't stand anymore of his detentions." Ron said.

"We'll make it work, somehow." Harry said with a smile. Leslie returned the smile, and then looked up at the head table to see Wizzie poking at her flaun miserably.

"Yes, this really can't wait any longer." She put her fork down. "Alright, so Harry, you'll be down in the dungeons this afternoon and you'll do something to really irritate Snape, so he'll give you a detention. Have you thought of any ideas?" Harry snickered to himself.

"Yep, I already talked Fred and George into letting me have one of their firework kits. I'm gonna set them off right outside his office." He replied. Leslie and her friends laughed.

"That's brilliant! Snape will surely give you a detention. If we're lucky, he'll bring Harry to the Potions classroom to clean out more dirty cauldrons. At the same time, I'll go to Professor Wizzie's office and ask her for help with Potions." Leslie added. Hermione shook her head.

"I still don't think that part of the plan is going to work. Wizzie's going to be suspicious. Why would you ask _her_ for help with Potions?" She asked. Leslie smiled.

"Well, Wizzie knows we like her, for one thing, and besides, she knows what Snape is like. All I have to tell her is that Snape wouldn't do it and she'll be willing to help in a heartbeat. I've got it all under control." She swallowed some pumpkin juice. "I'll bring Wizzie down to the Potions classroom and then they'll be in the same room together and they'll have to acknowledge each other. Maybe once they see each other, alone, they'll come to their senses."

"Although I can't see what sense she has in wanting to date Snape in the first place." Ron complained.

"It does seem like an awful lot to go through just to get Snape and Wizzie back together, but if it means fewer detentions and a happier Wizzie, then I say let's go for it." Hermione said.

"Great, now you two know your part too, right?" Leslie asked Hermione and Ron. Ron looked up with a blank look as a piece of spaghetti hung from his mouth. Hermione rolled his eyes.

"Yes, it's our job to make sure there aren't any other teachers in the hallway when Harry sets off the fireworks. It's absolutely crucial that Snape is the one who catches him." She explained. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Alright, I'm not sure if it's _crucial._ We're trying to get teachers back together, not facing a life-and-death situation." He pointed out. Hermione looked back moodily at her dessert while Leslie stifled a giggle. She couldn't help but feel optimistic about their plan. Well, Crims' plan. She just hoped it would work, she thought, as she looked up at Wizzie, who had abandoned her dessert and stared longingly at Professor Snape. Leslie hated to see her like that, and besides, she thought, it was worth a shot.

* * *

Leslie and Harry told Hermione and Ron to go wait in the hallway outside of Snape's office while Harry and Leslie ran to get changed out of their Quidditch uniforms. By this point, Leslie had completely forgotten about her morning victory and was confused at first when some of her fellow Gryffindors congratulated her on a "job well done." Of course, Harry quickly reminded her, but Leslie shook it aside. They had work to do right now, far more important than any Quidditch victory.

"Alright, I'll give you a head start. Go and start setting off the fireworks and I'll give it some time before I find Professor Wizzie. We want to make sure you're already cleaning cauldrons before I bring her down." Leslie said, as the two left the Fat Lady's portrait. Harry moped.

"Tell me again why _I_ got stuck having to willingly subject myself to Snape's detention?" He asked. Leslie smiled.

"Well we all decided that neither you or Ron would ever ask for extra help in Potions, and Hermione's far too smart to ever _need_ help. I had to be the one to ask Wizzie. As far as you having to suffer through detention with Snape, let's face it Harry, Snape hates you and I more than any other Gryffindor for some reason. He'd give you a detention if you just looked at him funny, and since I have to convince Wizzie to help me, you got stuck with this job." She laughed when he pretended to pout. "Oh come on, Harry, it's all for a good cause."

She watched him head down to the dungeons with his set of fireworks, and Leslie sat on the moving staircases, keeping an eye on her watch to make sure she was giving him enough time. She could do nothing but hope Snape would be the one to catch him, and would give him a detention in the Potions classroom right away. Knowing Snape, because it was the weekend, he wouldn't wait to punish Harry. They were counting on that predictability for this plan to work.

When Leslie felt enough time had passed, she picked up her Potions textbook she had grabbed from her dormitory and headed to Professor Wizzie's office. She repeated to herself over and over again what she would say, rehearsing so she would not sound suspicious in any way. Although, these days, Wizzie was oblivious to anything. She would probably believe her even if Leslie giggled through it all.

Leslie reached Wizzie's office and gently tapped on the door, making sure to hold her finger in place on page 572, which was what Snape had been teaching them on Friday. Even though Leslie completely understood the lesson, she had to pretend to be in the dark, just this once. Leslie had to admit, it wasn't pleasant, having to admit she didn't understand something - there hadn't really been any part of her magical education up to date she'd had trouble with. Well, except Transfiguration, but what a useless subject that was anyway.

"Come in." A moody voice answered from the other side of the door. Leslie, bracing herself for a miserable time, entered Wizzie's office.

There was Professor Wizzie, sitting at her desk, flicking a rubber band mindlessly against the desk as her eyes wandered up to find Leslie entering her office.

"Oh, hello Leslie, what brings you here, and on a Saturday?" Wizzie asked with the lamest excuse for a smile Leslie had ever seen. Leslie cleared her throat, approaching Wizzie's desk.

"Well, professor, actually, I was sort of hoping you weren't busy, because I could use some help." She explained. Wizzie seemed to perk up a little. Leslie imagined she must be happy for the company. Without Snape to hang around, weekends were no doubt a bore. _Although I can't understand how being with Snape would be fun._

"Well, I shall do my best, Leslie, what do you need?" Wizzie asked.

"I really am sorry to bother you on a Saturday, Professor, but I've been having a heap of trouble with my Potions homework, and I-"

"Leslie, need I remind you I'm a Muggle Studies Professor, not a Potions Master?"

"Oh I know that, Professor, but I remember you telling us last year that you fared very well in Potions when you were a student at Hogwarts. Besides, I...well, I didn't exactly want to ask Professor Snape." Leslie blushed, hoping it would be enough motivation for Wizzie to want to help.

Wizzie's lips curled into a smile, a better attempt at one anyway.

"Well, I can understand that. I don't really blame you." She sighed. "Well, Leslie, I can promise you I will do my best, mind you, it's been _years_ since I've been a student at Hogwarts." Leslie smiled.

"Oh, thank you Professor! I'm sure you'll do brilliant! Much better than what I'm doing anyway." She lied.

"What seems to be the trouble?" Wizzie asked.

"Well," Leslie opened her textbook, "I need to know how to turn the _Remedium_ Potion the proper shade of turquoise. I can't get it! All I can get it to turn is a navy blue." Leslie was thankful Hermione had showed her how to make the _Remedium_ Potion turn navy blue, even though Leslie knew how to properly brew the potion, but if Wizzie asked her to actually _show_ her what she was doing, Leslie had to be able to mess it up.

Wizzie nodded.

"That sounds familiar. In my opinion, you're probably using too much Wolfsbane." She said. Leslie swallowed as she nodded.

"Yes, er, you're probably right. Well, do you think you could show me how to do it correctly? I mean, I know you're probably busy and everything, it's just that we have a test on Monday, and I don't want to do badly on it." She said, looking at Wizzie with wide brown eyes. She knew Wizzie had a soft spot for Leslie and her friends, for whatever reason. So she wasn't at all surprised when Wizzie agreed to help her.

The two of them walked in silence toward the Potions classroom and Leslie was secretly crossing her fingers that Snape had followed through with his usual hatred toward them and given Harry a detention immediately. Leslie even swore she could smell smoke from the fireworks. Harry had completed his part of the plan.

"Thank you for doing this, Professor Wizzie, I was so worried about that test." Leslie lied, hamming it up. Wizzie laughed a little.

"Oh no worries, Leslie, I'm quite alright with taking time out of my schedule to help you." She replied. Leslie felt like rolling her eyes. _What schedule? 1:00p.m. - mope about Snape. 3:35p.m. - brood over being alone. 5:00p.m. - poke at dinner._ Leslie sighed.

Sure enough, when they entered the Potions classroom, Harry was sitting cross-legged on the floor, cursing under his breath while scraping out dragon scales from test tubes, and then there was Snape, glaring at Harry from his desk.

Leslie walked into the classroom with Wizzie, who noticeably slowed down.

Leslie grabbed a cauldron off the shelf and pretended as though she didn't notice Harry. Harry never turned either. Snape glared coldly at Leslie, never once looking at Wizzie.

"What are you doing here, Perks?" He spat. Leslie, forcing herself to sound as polite as possible, turned to look at him.

"I wanted to have another go at the _Remedium_ Potion before the test on Monday, Professor." She said. Snape simply glared at her, but didn't say anything. He never even asked why Wizzie was there. In fact, he looked away from the two of them, as though pretending like Wizzie had not entered his classroom. Wizzie also never looked at him. She kept her features cold, as she cleared her throat and began walking Leslie through the steps to successfully brew the _Remedium_ Potion.

Halfway through the Potion, Leslie was beginning to wonder if this was even going to work. They were in the same room together, and yet they hadn't even acknowledged each other. Leslie wondered what she could do to make them talk.

She didn't have to, though, because Snape's voice echoed against the dungeon walls as he began to criticize Harry's cleaning procedure.

"You call that scrubbing, Potter? I still see excess traces of dragon scales, which is completely unacceptable. You will have to start over again, and dig those fingers in deeper!" Snape grumbled. It was then that Wizzie made an odd noise with her throat. It was clearly a disapproving sound, whatever it was and Snape had heard it.

"Did you say something?" He asked in a low, sarcastic voice. Wizzie breathed out, finally looking at him for the first time since they arrived.

"No, no, not at all. It's just, I'm not overly surprised at your method of punishment for poor Mr. Potter. Still torturing these poor children, I see. These ones especially - they've been coming to my class with bandages around their fingers and headaches." She said in a higher voice. Leslie stole a glance at Harry. This was not going well.

"Pardon me for saying so, but my disciplinary practices are hardly any of your concern, _Daisy._" Snape pointed out, floating a few steps closer. Wizzie shrugged.

"You're right, they're not. It really isn't any of my business. It isn't any of my business _now, _nor has it been any of my business when we were together. Even then, you insisted on obscene disciplinary practices." She said.

"Yes, well, that's only because you fail, in comparison, to discipline your students appropriately. You're too easy." Snape retorted.

"Too _easy?_ Let me tell you something! I-" And the two began fighting loudly and angrily. Leslie stared at them for a moment, realizing they stopped realizing there were students in the room. Past mistakes were coming up, insults were hurled back and forth, and Leslie snuck away, reaching down to grab Harry's arm, as the two managed to slink away from the Potions classroom without even being seen. As they ran around the corner, Leslie was sure she heard a vile shattering to the floor. Leslie shared one glance with Harry, and they both knew.

This was going to be harder than they thought.

* * *

Leslie and Harry made it to the Gryffindor Common Room where Ron and Hermione were waiting for them. While Harry sat down, Leslie ran up to her dormitory where she grabbed a few bandages and some _Remedium_ Potion that Hermione had been keeping stock of for all their detentions with Snape. Joining her friends back in the Common Room, Leslie began bandaging Harry's cut fingers.

"What happened?" Hermione asked. Leslie rolled her eyes, breathing out.

"It didn't work. They were in the same room for no more than ten minutes and they started to fight. I mean, I thought I've seen Snape angry, but _today!_" She exclaimed.

"Yeah, and Wizzie, I mean, you can't even imagine her angry, but she was foul too." Harry added, wincing at the pain as Leslie tried to be gentle. She whispered an apology.

"We managed to sneak out of there, but I bet they're still going." Leslie added. Ron leaned back in his chair with a huff.

"Blimey, well _that_ didn't work! Maybe they're just not meant to be together!" He said angrily. Leslie shook her head.

"No, there's _got_ to be a way to get them together without them ending up in a fight." She said, reaching into her brain for more ideas. Ron stared at her incredulously.

"You want to try _another_ plan? Are you bloody insane? It's not worth it, Leslie!" He exclaimed. Before Leslie even opened her mouth, a black barn owl rapped on their window with a piece of parchment. Leslie opened the window and took the parchment.

"It's for you, Harry." Leslie said, handing the note over to Harry. He accepted it, and after reading it, breathed out with a heavy sigh.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry stared at Leslie.

"It's from Snape. He's demanding me _and_ you to go down to the dungeons at 4:00 _in the morning_ to scrub vials and cauldrons right up until lunchtime!" He exclaimed. Leslie felt sick to her stomach, and after a quick glance at Harry's cut-up fingers, she turned to Ron.

"No, it's worth it! This can't go on!"


	17. The Marauder's Map

Life at the castle wasn't looking up for Leslie and her friends on the Snape factor. Leslie was even beginning to half hope that as time continued to pass, Snape would grow sick of having to see their faces detention after detention and cease all together.

But as November rolled around, Snape's detentions became even more prevalent. Leslie wondered if it had something to do with the weather becoming colder, but she doubted it. With Snape's cold personality, she figured he'd enjoy that more.

In the last two weeks, Leslie had scraped dragon scales out of test tubes, poured leftover _Aquilis _potion down the drain (which left black spots all over her arms until Madame Pomfrey remedied it at the end of the day) and continued to suffer through headaches and sore fingers from the _Suffio_ Potion and _Igneus_ Potion.

Leslie, Harry, Ron and Hermione hadn't bothered to come up with a new plan to get Snape and Wizzie back together over the past few weeks since their first attempt. That detention Snape had requested of Harry and Leslie after that had the two speculating Snape knew they had been behind it from the start. Snape expressed his extreme disapproval by having Leslie and Harry clean every last cauldron and test tube in his classroom, which took them a total of eight hours! Madame Pomfrey hadn't been happy to see them covered in more maladies than she could count, but Leslie and her friends had decided to lay low for a little while. The last they wanted was to _add_ more detentions to their list.

To make matters worse, it seemed like nearly every few days, Hermione's copy of the Daily Prophet reported more escapes from Azkaban, all presumed Deatheaters. As if that wasn't troubling Leslie enough, one Tuesday morning, the Daily Prophet reported that someone had actually _spotted_ Bellatrix Lestrange in the process of murdering Muggles. Leslie hadn't been able to sleep for a few days after that was released.

She couldn't help but wonder if all of this, the breakouts, Bellatrix Lestrange, and the possibility that Deatheaters were joining together had something to do with her. Lucius Malfoy said it himself. Voldemort needed her for something, and that worried Leslie. Deatheaters were banding together; would their combined efforts allow them to penetrate the walls of Hogwarts and get to her? It made Leslie sick to her stomach even thinking about it. Even though Hogwarts was supposed to be the safest place for her, she wasn't sure anymore. And trying to think about everything that could be happening beyond the castle walls made her toss and turn in her sleep. Even worse, she wondered where Voldemort was. Was he with Deatheaters? Leslie knew Voldemort was helpless right now, stripped of his powers when he had been unable to kill Harry Potter 13 years earlier. But if Deatheaters were helping him, who _knew_ what was possible?

Leslie spent a lot of time these days wishing she had someone she could express these fears to. She didn't want to tell Hermione, because she was always watching for any kind of behaviour that would be a clue into what was going on with Leslie, so it made it awkward to talk to Hermione about anything other than schoolwork. Leslie hated the drift that was happening, and she knew it was because of the issues she was having with Hermione's parents, but right now, she wasn't sure if she could deal with it.

She couldn't tell Harry, since Leslie wondered if Harry was the real reason Voldemort was going after Leslie in the first place. If she confided any of this to Harry, he'd blame himself and distance himself from her, and she couldn't let that happen. Even though she couldn't talk to him about any of this, he was still her rock, and she wouldn't survive any of this without him by her side.

And Ron was a write-off because, well, he was _Ron._

It made Leslie brood over not having parents even more. Especially when she would watch Hermione write out letters to her mum and dad about how frightening it is to have criminals walking around the wizarding world. Hermione could express _her_ fears, but who was Leslie to talk to? Her grandmother would probably think she was overreacting or imagining it. The only adult who actually believed her was Sirius Black, and she wasn't exactly close enough to him to divulge her deepest fears. Well, there was Crims...Leslie knew Crims' door was always open, but even so, Leslie couldn't imagine telling Crims, she was a target for the darkest wizard of all time. No, Leslie would have to deal with things on her own. As usual.

It was a gray Tuesday evening as Leslie was struggling through her fourth year History of Magic textbook, _The Age of Ancient Runes._ It was one of six textbooks the fourth years were required to read and understand by the end of the year, and it was also a desperate attempt by Professor Babbling to enlist students into taking her Study of Ancient Runes class for their fifth year. Although reading the textbook assigned by Professor Binns made Leslie even less inclined to ever take a class about ancient scripts of magic.

Struggling to keep awake, Leslie managed to even remember to poke Ron a few times to keep him focused on the Herbology essay he was supposed to have finished by the next morning. Nobody had any sympathy on him when he complained, because Leslie, Hermione and Harry had already completed the 16-inch essay on the life cycle of Murlap Turnips.

_It is said that a Muggle explorer by the name of Eugene Fasherman stumbled upon the very first Ancient Ruin in 1349 A.C. Claiming to have witnessed a bright light reflecting off of something in a hidden cave, he investigated and found the full text of Mualesia, the very first Ancient Ruin known to the wizarding world. When the Ministry came across this knowledge, they found Fasherman, modified his memory and brought Mualesia to the proper witches and wizards in order to begin a magical translation process that will be_ _outlined over the next 10 chapters._

Leslie sighed, turning to chapter 2, wondering how she was going to get this textbook read by next Tuesday, her due date. She looked longingly out the window, wishing she were playing Quidditch, when she saw an owl flying right up to the window, beckoning her.

Leslie put her giant book on the table, scaring Ron awake, and walked over to the window, opening it to receive a small letter addressed to Harry.

"Harry, it's for you." Leslie said, recognizing the script as Sirius Black's. Harry smiled, taking the letter, waiting for his three friends to join him before he read it out loud.

_To Harry and his friends_,

_I am writing this letter out of concern for the lot of you. I trust you have been keeping up with all the news on the escaped Deatheaters and the sighting of Bellatrix Lestrange. I want to tell you all to exercise caution and be very careful. The lot of you better stick together, especially you, Leslie. If what Malfoy said was true, the escaped Deatheaters are no doubt plotting with You-Know-Who himself on ways to get_ _to Leslie. I trust you will be safe when you are at Hogwarts, but take no chances. Stick together._

_I have enclosed a map to a location on the Hogwarts grounds. Harry_, _your father and I buried this long ago but I believe you four are in need of what is buried there now more than ever. Use it well._

_Hope to hear from you all soon, keep each other close,_

_Sirius Black_

Leslie and Harry exchanged excited glances. Something was buried here at Hogwarts that Sirius and James used. Now Sirius wanted them to use it.

"Let's go!" Leslie exclaimed, pointing toward the map. "We can go look for it right now!"

"But we have homework!" Hermione pointed out. After receiving a steady glare from Harry, Ron and Leslie, Hermione finally obliged, and the four grabbed cloaks and began to follow the map.

"What do you suppose it is?" Leslie asked, as they headed out of the castle, beginning to follow Sirius' map around the grounds.

"I don't know, but he thinks we need it, whatever it is. Maybe it has something to do with Deatheaters escaping and wanting to come after Leslie." Harry pointed out, averting Leslie's gaze. He immediately felt guilty for bringing it up again, he knew it was bugging Leslie.

"Well whatever it is, it must be hidden pretty well. You'd think Dumbledore would have found it or something." Ron said.

"Maybe he already has. In all reality, Sirius doesn't even know if it's still out there, whatever it is. It's been years since he was a student here. It might have even been dug up by some creatures." Hermione added.

"I guess we'll find out when we get there." Leslie said as the four continued to follow the map.

It didn't take them long to reach their destination, but as they realized where Sirius had buried his treasure, each and every one of their stomach's dropped.

The Whomping Willow.

"You've got to be bloody joking me." Ron groaned. Leslie peeked over Harry's shoulder. Yes, there was no mistaking Sirius' map. James and Sirius had hidden their treasure inside the trunk of the Whomping Willow.

Leslie had never dealt with the Whomping Willow directly, but it had earned its name, and a reputation. From what Leslie had heard and read, the Whomping Willow was the last place you wanted to be digging up buried treasure around. Leslie sighed.

"He could have mentioned this small detail." She moped. The Willow only moved its branches briskly, as though sensing their presence nearby.

"Well, let's get it over with then." Harry said moodily as he took a step forward. Leslie swallowed, but before she had the chance to follow Harry, Hermione's hand shot out to grab Harry by the scruff of his shirt collar. Harry let out a bit of a strangled sound, which caused Ron and Leslie to laugh. Hermione, however, did not look bemused.

"You can't _possibly_ be serious! You want us to...find something of Sirius' under that...that _tree_? Be realistic. It might not even be there anymore." She pointed out, staring nervously toward the Willow. Harry met her gaze levelly.

"Hermione, whatever it is my dad and Sirius hid, Sirius thinks we need it. If it's something to help keep us safe, keep _Leslie_ safe, then we have to try." He said, pocketing the map Sirius drew. Leslie tried not to blush.

"Harry's right. With the Deatheaters all over the place, if there's something we can do to protect ourselves, well, what's a few...injuries?" Ron asked, swallowing as he glanced over at the tree. Hermione exhaled and looked at Leslie. Leslie couldn't return her glance. She knew how much she meant to Hermione; Hermione meant just as much to her, but with everything that had been going on with Mr. and Mrs. Granger, things between Hermione and Leslie had been, well, awkward at times. But Leslie knew Hermione would do anything if it meant keeping Leslie safe. It was the same way Leslie felt about all her friends.

"Alright, but be careful! Let's stick together. If anybody gets hurt, we leave right away!" She ordered. The other three agreed (although none had any real intention of walking away), and they went toward the tree at a careful trot.

The Willow noticed them immediately, and Leslie tried to ignore the sounds of its creaking tree branch as it prepared to attack. She suddenly became aware of a shadow around her, but before she even had a chance to realize what was happening, she felt Harry grab her hand and pull her toward himself, as a thick branch came pounding down into the ground where she had been running. Leslie paled, and looked at Harry.

"T-thanks." She murmured. He didn't respond, he only pulled her along as he ran, avoiding the tree branches. Leslie had to keep her eyes closed for some of the way, because the trees' smaller branches were attacking too, scratching at her face and arms. The whole ground shook, and Leslie was aware of Ron's and Hermione's screams as well, though she couldn't see them anymore. Leslie could do nothing but trust that Harry was watching where he was going. She couldn't even _see_ the trunk anymore. The Willow was attacking fiercely, ceasing at nothing to stop the four teenagers from gaining access to the trunk.

Suddenly, a thick branch appeared out of nowhere, and collided with Harry and Leslie hard, knocking them both off their feet. As Leslie struggled to stand, she saw it. The entrance to the tree trunk.

"Harry, come on!" Leslie reached down and yanked on Harry's arm, helping him up as the thick tree branch came back for a second blow, but this time, they were prepared. They ducked and ran toward the entrance of the tree trunk, jumping over one last attacking branch before they finally made it under the trunk.

Leslie struggled to catch her breath as she realized Ron and Hermione had also made it. Leslie noticed all four of them were breathing heavily, and were covered in minor cuts and bruises. Leslie shuddered. As long as she could help it, she would _never_ go near this tree again.

"Honestly, why would they even _plant_ this thing here?" She asked as she brushed off the flecks of dirt from her shirt. Ron grumbled something inaudibly under his breath, but Leslie was sure she heard some foul language in there. Harry pulled out the map again.

"Okay, this says it should be just around the corner." He said. Leslie looked up then and realized there was an entire passageway under the tree, which surprised her. She hadn't expected such a large opening. It gave her hope that perhaps there was another way out, because having to face that tree again was not on her list of most favourite things to do at the moment.

Leslie, Hermione and Ron followed Harry as he led the way around the corner of the passageway into a deeper opening that led down into a smaller cove. Harry stood underneath a small vine that was hanging from the cave's ceiling.

"It's here, the map says it's buried here." He pointed out. Leslie, Hermione, Ron and Harry all stared at each other, and then at the soft ground. They hadn't planned on this. What were they supposed to dig with?

"Oh I know!" Hermione exclaimed, picking up a stick. "We can transfigure these sticks into shovels!" Leslie immediately grew excited, as she picked up a stick, and then felt guilty for ever thinking Transfiguration was a useless subject. Perhaps it was after all, though she would never admit this to her grandmother.

After they all picked up their sticks, they waited to hear Hermione cast the spell.

"_Fustis Rutrum!"_ She said, pointing her wand at the grubby stick, and sure enough, the stick elongated into a beautifully cast iron shovel. Harry, Leslie and Ron pulled out their wands and did the same, though Ron's shovel wasn't as sturdy, and broke in half as soon as he tried to dig.

The three (Ron supervised) began digging in the spot Sirius had marked and it wasn't long before they hit something solid. Leslie felt her heart quicken. This was _so_ exciting. Buried treasure from years ago, now right at their fingertips. Leslie couldn't wait to see what it was.

They brushed the remaining dirt away and found a trunk. Harry and Ron reached into the hole and pulled it out without much effort; it was surprisingly light for its size.

"Open it!" Leslie squealed.

"Wait, it's locked." Hermione pulled out her wand again. "_Alohamora!"_ The padlock fell to the ground with a high-pitched clang, and the four friends crowded around as Harry lifted the lid, and pulled out what was inside.

It was another map.

Leslie's first thought was that it was some kind of wild goose chase. That this map would lead to _another_ location in Hogwarts. But Leslie quickly realized, as she looked at the old map, that it was something more than that. Harry began to read what was on the map.

"It says, 'Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present The Marauder's Map." He read. Leslie puckered her brow, because when Harry opened the large map, it was blank. What kind of a map was this?

It was then that Leslie realized there was a piece of parchment in the trunk as well, with some writing on it. She pulled it out and examined it.

"It's written by your dad, Harry!" Leslie exclaimed. "He says that for this map to properly work, you must point your wand at it and say, 'I Solemnly Swear that I Am Up To No Good" and when you're finished, say, "Mischief Managed." Leslie thought that was a strange bit of magic. A map only working if you promised to use it for mischief? Odd.

Harry pulled out his wand and did as his father instructed, and before their eyes, blank ink began to appear on the page in great detail and they realized it was showing the entire grounds of Hogwarts! Leslie noticed something else too. Little footprints moving about on the piece of paper, with names above them. She swallowed.

"This map shows everyone, everywhere! Look, there's Crims, and there's Malfoy, and there's Snape." Leslie pointed out the names she recognized and couldn't believe how detailed this map was. Did Sirius and James have a part in creating this map? It was amazing!

"Now I know why Sirius wanted us to have this." Harry said after a moment of observing the map's content. "He wants us to keep watch so we'll know if anyone trespasses on Hogwarts grounds. We'll know if there's any Deatheaters coming into Hogwarts, even if they try to sneak in. Sirius wants us to have this so we'll know if we're safe or not." Leslie smiled, staring at the moving figures on the map.

"It's a brilliant idea! I never would have thought of it." She paused. "I wonder who created such a masterpiece." Ron started grumbling.

"Now that we've found it, that means we'll have to leave." He looked nervously at the small opening that would put them right under those deadly branches of the Whomping Willow again. Leslie and Hermione sighed loudly, but then Harry shook his head.

"No wait." He looked up from the map. "This map also shows tons of secret passages around Hogwarts, and..." he referred to the map once again, "it shows a different way out of the Whomping Willow! We can follow this pathway down that way, and the map is showing it will bring us out into the Hogwarts dungeons." Leslie smiled to herself, secretly grateful to Sirius Black, not only for wanting to keep them all safe, but also for helping them to avoid another run-in with the angriest tree Leslie thought she would ever meet.

* * *

They made sure the coast was clear before they climbed up through a loose floor board into the Hogwarts dungeons and soon, Leslie, Hermione, Harry and Ron were standing in the basement of Hogwarts, covered in cuts and bruises, and holding a new map. It was a good thing nobody _was_ around, or it could have been an interesting story to try and explain.

As they began walking back to the common room, they began discussing the map amongst themselves.

"This isn't something we can just mess around with. Obviously Sirius wanted us to have it for a very important reason. Not for mischief, like it was obviously created for." Hermione said disapprovingly. Harry agreed.

"Right. We'll have to make sure it's safe. I think one of us should carry it with us." He paused. "Leslie, I think it should be you." Leslie looked over, shocked.

"Me? Why me?" She questioned.

"Think about it. Sirius gave it to us to keep us safe, and if Lucius Malfoy was telling the truth, then there could be Deatheaters out there who are after you. I'd guess Lucius would be the one we'd have to worry about the most, since his son is attending Hogwarts. He probably has the most legitimate excuse for coming into the castle. Still, I think you should have the map with you all the time, and check it anytime you get the chance, just to make sure. You need it more than any of us." Harry replied, handing the map over to Leslie, who looked at it nervously. It still scared her to think about Deatheaters wanting to come after her, especially when she thought about Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman who had mercilessly _tortured_ her last year. She shivered, but nodded.

"Alright, I'll keep it and check it all the time." She replied, pulling her wand out and tapping the map. "Mischief managed." Leslie didn't feel good about any of this, but then, none of them did.

* * *

A few days had passed since the discovery of the Marauder's Map and the four teenagers had spent their evenings (after homework, of course) pouring over it, spying on their friends and always checking for signs of Deatheaters or suspicious activity. They were surprised to learn of all the secret passageways that existed around Hogwarts. In fact, that Wednesday evening, Leslie pointed out some interesting passageways that gave her a sneaky idea.

"Look here! There's a secret passageway that leads to the air vent right outside Wizzie's office, and this one here leads to a loose stone board just outside of Snape's potions classroom. I have an idea that could get the two of them together! Hermione and I can use the passageway to get outside Snape's office and we can use the _Fallax Fuscus_ charm to throw our voice to sound like Professor Wizzie, requesting Snape to meet her in the gardens. Harry and Ron can do the same thing outside of Wizzie's office, using Snape's voice, and they'll both go out and meet in the gardens, and they'll _have_ to talk." Leslie explained! Her friends seemed to like the idea, but Ron had his doubts.

"What makes you think they won't blow up at each other like last time?" He asked. Leslie shrugged.

"I don't, but at least this way, there's no _way_ Snape can blame us if it does go horribly wrong. We've got nothing to lose!" She exclaimed. Having nothing better to do, and every reason to make this work, they studied the map to make sure they knew where the passageways were, the four friends split up.

Hermione and Leslie entered the secret passageway just behind the Magical History bookshelf in the library, having to pull _Thorough Descriptions of Hogsmeade Tunnels_ to activate the opening. It was just small enough to fit Hermione and Leslie, and they closed it up behind them just as quickly. They hadn't been seen, of course, because nobody ever read books from the Magical History section, well, except for Hermione of course.

The passageway was dusty and low-ceilinged, so Hermione and Leslie had to duck to get through it, and they had to make sure to count the number of bricks on the wall as they went, because the opening to Snape's potions classroom was exactly 249 bricks from the library entrance.

"235...236...237..." Hermione counted. Leslie sighed, following along quietly.

"I'm starting to doubt my idea, Hermione. Maybe it won't work. I mean, if Snape and Wizzie were as close as Wizzie made it sound, Snape might be able to tell if it's not really her."

* * *

"It's not I'm afraid of getting caught, you know, after all the detentions we've already had with Snape, really, what's one more? Still, they always tend to be worse when it has to do with Wizzie."

* * *

"But they've _got_ to get back together! I mean it's only November. I don't think my tolerance will improve any in the next 7 months!"

"Leslie! Do you want me to lose count?" Hermione asked, touching a brick as though to remember where she had left off. Leslie blushed.

"Sorry." She remained silent as Hermione counted out the last few bricks, and stood in front of the 249th brick. She looked up.

"It should be right here." She examined the ceiling with her lit wand, but couldn't see any grooves to indicate a loose floor board.

"Just start pushing up on the ceiling, something's gotta give." Leslie replied, and soon, the two girls were pressing up gently on the stone ceiling, and Leslie began to feel movement.

"Here it is!" She only opened it a crack, to peek through and see they truly were just outside of Snape's classroom.

"Alright," she looked at Hermione. "Go ahead." Hermione pulled out her wand and pointed it to her throat.

"_Fallax Fuscus_."She said, and then waited for a moment before she started to talk. "Do I sound like Wizzie?"

She did, and it was the strangest thing to hear Wizzie's voice coming from Hermione, Leslie did everything she could not to laugh.

"Yes, exactly the same! Okay, now tell Snape to meet you in the gardens." Leslie replied. "And make sure you call him Sevvy." Hermione looked mortified, but cleared her throat.

"Oh Sevvy!" She shouted in a high-pitched voice that sounded just like Wizzie. "Meet me out in the gardens. I'd like to speak with you." Leslie shook her head.

"No, you've got to say something, you know, 'lovey-dovey.' You know how Wizzie is." Leslie whispered. Hermione looked shocked.

"Are you joking? No way!"

"You have to, or he won't believe it's Wizzie! Quickly, before he comes out." Hermione sighed, and thought quickly.

"You must meet me, my snookums! I am just itching with desire to see you! Quickly now!" With that, Hermione closed the opening and made a gagging sound as she removed the charm, shuddering at what she had just said. Leslie was on the floor. She couldn't stop laughing. She knew Hermione would never live this down.

"Very funny Leslie, now let's go meet the boys in the passageway that leads to the gardens to see if this even worked." She paused. "And it _better_ have!"

The girls moved silently along the same passageway, climbing stairs, crawling through crawlspaces until they reached the little tunnel that led out to the gardens, but was hidden behind a bed of sunflowers. Harry and Ron were already there.

"Did it work?" Ron asked excitedly.

"I don't know yet. I guess we just have to wait to find out." Leslie replied, and that was what they did. The four sat in complete silence, afraid they would be caught if they uttered a single word.

It took only moments before they saw a black figure through the sunflowers. It was Snape! And only moments after that, a billow of purple robes joined him. Leslie smiled to herself. It was working! Their plan was working!

"Daisy." Snape muttered.

"Severus." Wizzie replied monotonously. Silence followed. Leslie hadn't thought about this. Each of them had thought the other had ordained this. The awkward silence was killing her. Would one of them please say _something?_

"I have papers to mark, Severus." Wizzie suddenly said impatiently.

"Then I suggest you tell me why you wanted to meet me here." Snape said bitterly. More silence followed, and Leslie imagined the shocked expressions that must be appearing on both of their faces, as they must be realizing what was happening.

"Nonsense, you're the one who wanted to meet." Wizzie said.

"I heard your voice outside my door, you said-"

"No, I heard _your_ voice outside _my_ door."

More silence.

"This was a set up." Wizzie said incredulously. "Why, who would do such a thing?" Leslie felt her stomach knot.

"I have my guesses, but unfortunately since I am unable to prove anything, I cannot punish the culprits." Snape said darkly. Leslie felt a sense of relief washing over her for _that_ anyway.

"Well, in that case...I'll be on my way then." Wizzie said quietly.

"I shall as well." Snape replied, and without another word, the two turned from each other and departed.

Leslie, Harry, Hermione and Ron stared quietly, waiting until they were absolutely certain their teachers were gone, before they exhaled and headed back down the passageway.

"Honestly, how thick can you get? Twice now! Can't they just realize they aren't over each other and carry on?" Leslie asked, kicking a lone stone down the passageway.

"This is frustrating. I don't know how much more of this matchmaker business I can take. It's risky and it's obviously pointless." Hermione said dejectedly.

"Don't say that. We can't give up. Otherwise the rest of our time here at Hogwarts will be miserable." Leslie piped up.

Still, as the four made their way back into the school, Leslie couldn't help but wonder if Hermione was right.


	18. Attack of the Deatheaters

It wasn't long before the fall leaves had begun to leave their comfortable tree homes and fall to the ground silently, leaving the trees bare and exposed. It wasn't long afterwards that the first snow coated Hogwarts in a powdery layer, bringing out bright spirits for most Hogwarts students. Snow meant Christmas was coming, and everyone was eagerly excited.

Not Leslie. Even though it was the beginning of December and Christmas vacation would be fast approaching, she did everything in her power to avoid talking about Christmas or thinking about Christmas. Christmas meant Christmas holidays and Christmas holidays meant the Grangers again. Leslie stayed up most nights thinking about it these days. What would she do? Honestly, she couldn't think about it most nights, not without feeling that familiar lump in her throat she was trying her best to ignore. She would not cry! Hermione would notice, and the last thing she needed was for Hermione to ask more questions. She was nosy enough, asking for her own curiosity but also at the prodding of her parents who were constantly pressing her about what was bothering 'dear Leslie.' Leslie had come up with as many lies as she could possibly construct, but she wondered how long it would take before Mr. and Mrs. Granger realized Leslie was simply avoiding them.

On the nights she was trying hard to forget about the impending Christmas vacation, Leslie did her best to distract her thoughts by checking the Marauder's Map. Ever since she and her friends had found it only a few weeks ago, Leslie had been very good at checking it a few times a day. In fact, whenever there was a break from class, or an opportunity to sneak away from roommates and fellow Gryffindors, Leslie and her friends checked the map. Leslie checked it more often than not. Harry had been right; if the Deatheaters were after Leslie, she would have to be on the lookout, and though she didn't always know what she was looking for, she greatly feared seeing Lucius Malfoy's figure stalking throughout the castle. But so far, nothing had come up. Without any danger lurking around, Leslie's thoughts often drifted back to the Granger's and what Christmas vacation would look like.

It was the first Friday evening in December when Leslie finally finished her History of Magic book report that was due the following week. She wanted to get a head start on it so she could spend more time practicing Quidditch with Harry. Honestly, she thought, it was Quidditch practice with Harry that warmed her spirits these days. Everyone else was excited about Christmas, but at least when she was with Harry, she could find comfort elsewhere.

Closing her book, she placed her quill down and headed to the Great Hall, where she would meet Harry, Hermione and Ron, who had been in the library so Hermione could tutor them for Transfiguration. Since Leslie had already successfully been able to transfigure an apple into an orange, she spent her afternoon upstairs in the common room, working on upcoming homework.

She found Harry, Hermione and Ron already seated in the Great Hall. Leslie joined them, trying to pick up on the conversation they were already having.

"Honestly Ronald, if you would just _push_ yourself a little, you could actually fare well in school, but you, well, you lack confidence!" Hermione spat. Ron scoffed.

"_I_ lack confidence? No, what I lack is motivation. When in the bloody hell am I _ever_ going to need to turn an apple into an orange?" He shot back. Leslie couldn't help but smile. She had always considered Transfiguration to be a useless subject, but her grandmother taught it, so she mostly kept her mouth shut about it.

Hermione and Ron kept bickering, and Harry and Leslie just laughed as they listened.

Before the food appeared in front of them, Dumbledore stood before the students and raised his arms to quiet the crowd. Ron groaned, no doubt upset that he would have to wait a little longer before he could stuff his face.

"I know you are all excited to get to your dinner, and I shan't be long." Dumbledore boomed, his voice reverberating throughout the room. Leslie had always wondered if Dumbledore ever used magic to project his voice, or if he naturally had that presence about him.

"You may recall at the start of term my announcement regarding the MistleBall. I have already told you that our brother and sister schools are coming to join in on this tradition. The ball is quickly approaching, we will be holding it in the Great Hall on the Friday before you depart to your homes for holidays. Remember, we expect you to present yourselves as Hogwarts' ambassadors. Make the name of Hogwarts proud and enjoy yourselves for a night of dancing." Dumbledore announced, as the hall erupted in a burst of clapping and cheering. Leslie felt her face going pale. Truth be told, she had completely forgotten about the MistleBall until just now. Now, as it was just around the corner, she began to feel sick to her stomach just thinking about it. A ball? What did that mean? It meant a dress, it meant makeup, it meant...a _date_! Leslie cupped her head in her hands, groaning a little.

Hermione, on the other hand, could barely sit still.

"Oh I simply _can't_ wait! A ball! Oh that means a new dress, and oh, what will I do with my hair? Oh, so much to consider! I'll have to write mum tonight and ask her if we can all go shopping on Sunday for a dress. Of course, we'll have to meet her in London. Maybe mum can give us ideas for our hair, Leslie! We'll have to go through the Floo Network." Hermione said in one run-on sentence. The boys were too distracted with their food to even _think_ about the dance. Leslie simply didn't say anything. She had hardly even picked up on Hermione's use of the word 'we.'

"Oh but Leslie, do remind me, because we'll have to sign out if we want to go home. I'm sure I'll just forget and then we'll have Dumbledore and McGonagall breathing down our necks." Hermione added. Leslie quickly shook her head, clearing her throat.

"Er, no, I won't be going to London with you." She paused, as Hermione stared at her, dumbfounded. "Well, you know, I've already _got_ a dress for the ball, and I have a load of homework I'm going to need to be doing." It was a bold-face lie, and judging by the look on Hermione's face, she didn't buy any of it. Leslie didn't have a dress, and Hermione would know it. She had lived in the same quarters as her since their first year, and throughout the summers. She would have known if Leslie had ever bought a dress.

Leslie turned away, ashamed to face her best friend she had just lied to. As she poked her food, she tried to push a second thing out of her mind. As if it weren't hard enough to pretend as though Christmas holidays weren't sneaking up on them, now she had to pretend there was no MistleBall either.

* * *

The next morning, Leslie found herself with Harry, Hermione and Ron outside at the gates of Hogwarts, bundled up in their winter attire, ready to head out on their second trip into Hogsmeade. Leslie felt her eyelids drooping as she struggled to keep herself awake and alert. It had been another sleepless night, struggling with the plaguing thoughts and impending truth of the MistleBall and of Christmas vacation. She couldn't help but wish there was a spell that could push one forward through time. Oh how wonderful that would be!

She felt guilty because Hermione had barely spoken a word to her since dinner the night before. Leslie sighed. Would she ever truly be happy again? She wanted things to be right with Hermione again, but it was plainly obvious there were issues involving Hermione's parents, and Leslie couldn't share that with Hermione, no matter _how_ badly she hated lying to her best friend. They were her _parents. _How would she ever explain that?

Leslie hoped, at least for today, she could forget about her problems and have a nice, safe trip into Hogsmeade. They had checked the Marauder's Map before they had bundled up to head out. The coast was clear, of course, but that was only Hogwarts. The foursome realized there was no map extending into Hogsmeade. They would have to heed Sirius' advice and stick together very closely, as there would be no way of knowing if there were Deatheaters in Hogsmeade. No map could help them with that.

Spirits were high that morning, even among Leslie and her friends. Even though Leslie and Hermione hardly spoke to each other, all four were smiling and eager to go. No amount of sleepiness could make Leslie upset about going to Hogsmeade. She had time to make up for, what with all the trips being cancelled the previous year because of the Black Fog. Thankfully, her grandmother had given her a few Knuts to shop with, and she already planned to share some of it with Ron, who was given nothing for this trip.

Harry was slight disappointed that they wouldn't be able to meet up with Sirius this trip. When they had written Sirius to inform him of their upcoming trip into Hogsmeade, he regretfully declined, saying he had prior plans to meet with the Ministry during that time, and would be unable to make it. Even though Leslie, Harry, Hermione and Ron were disappointed they wouldn't be able to see Sirius, they still vowed to have a good time, however cold, however miserable the wind was.

It wasn't long before McGonagall, Wizzie and Crims gathered the students together and McGonagall shouted out the typical rules once again. Leslie tuned them out, stifling a yawn. _Yes, yes, now let's get a move on._

The Hogwarts gates opened and the walk began.

The wind picked up once they were out of the castle grounds and Leslie couldn't help but wonder if there was a charm within Hogwarts' grounds to reduce the amount of wind. She wanted to ask Hermione, but remembered Hermione was less than pleased with her at the moment.

Halfway to Hogsmeade, Leslie and her friends were joined by a fifth presence; it was Professor Crims, dressed in thick navy blue velvet robes, her hands in gloves and a hat resting on her head. Even though it was freezing, she still flashed them a winning smile.

"Hello, beautiful day, isn't it?" She asked, holding her hands out to catch the falling snowflakes. "Oh it's perfect weather for a ball, isn't it? I am very much looking forward to some good old fashioned dancing. It has been quite some time since I attended a MistleBall. I think the last time I attended, I was a student at Hogwarts. Oh, but then it was hosted at Beaubaxtons. So, are you lot excited for the ball?"

The question took Leslie by surprise. It had come completely from left field. Leslie felt her stomach knotting as she stared at the ground.

"Don't care." Ron replied.

"Meh." Harry added. Hermione, on the other hand, absolutely beamed.

"I can't wait, Professor! I'd read about the MistleBall, but I hardly gave it any attention! Now it's only weeks away!" She exclaimed with a bright smile. Leslie didn't respond, and she swore she could feel Crims' eyes penetrating right through her. Still, she wouldn't look up. She was grateful that Hermione continued on.

"I've already written my mum, and she's very much looking forward to shopping with me on Sunday. I'm leaving in the morning and coming back in the evening. She's also going to give me some tips on what to do with my hair, oh I can't _wait!_ I do wonder what color dress I'll get. I mean, it's got to be a winter color, doesn't it? I don't want anything pastel, because those are more summer colors, aren't they?" Hermione paused, and with hesitation, looked at Leslie. "Um, Leslie, what color is _your_ dress?"

Leslie's stomach dropped as she stopped and stared at Hermione, not having expected to hear anything from her. She cleared her throat.

"What?" She asked.

"Your dress. You said you already had one. Well, what color is it, out of curiosity?" Hermione asked. Leslie swallowed. She had suspected Hermione had caught her in the lie last night, but now she was trying to test her. Leslie didn't know what to do. She stole a quick glance at Professor Crims, who only stared at her, also waiting for a response. Leslie cleared her throat again.

"Well, Hermione, you'll just have to wait and see. It's a surprise." She flashed the fakest smile in the world and immediately noticed the look written all over Crims' face just then. As Hermione turned away and continued walking on, Leslie watched as Crims raised an eyebrow and headed on as well. Leslie knew right away that Professor Crims hadn't bought a single word of Leslie's lie.

* * *

While they were in Honeydukes, Ron and Harry had gone off to test out some of the free samples of the newest flavors of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Leslie had secretly slipped a Knut into Ron's coat pocket and would deny anything if she were asked. Maybe he would just believe it was his lucky day. Leslie looked at a display of Licorice Wands as she waited for the boys to be finished. She was surprised, however, to find Hermione standing next to her. She no longer seemed angry, in fact, all that talk about the MistleBall seemed to have brightened her spirits. She was her old self again. Leslie was secretly glad, but was immediately groaning inwardly when Hermione began talking about the MistleBall again.

"You know, I just thought of something. What are we to do about dates? I mean, is it tacky to go to a dance without a date? How are we to know who to take? I mean, well, isn't it the boy's responsibility to ask the girl? But heavens, what if someone asks us who we wouldn't want to be caught dead with? Like...oh I don't know, but I'm sure there are some stuck-up Ravenclaws I wouldn't want to go with." Hermione complained, staring off into space while Leslie continued to pick through the packets of candy wands. She consciously held her breath as Hermione continued.

"We are living in a new age, maybe it's okay for girls to ask boys, but then there's pressure there, isn't there? I mean, I haven't any idea who I would ask. I guess it would just be better if a boy asked, but..._oh!_"Hermione seemed frustrated as she grabbed her bushy hair. Leslie sighed.

"Why do we need dates? Can't we just go as a group of friends?" She asked. Hermione breathed out.

"Well I _suppose_, but everyone else will be getting dates, I'm sure. I don't know if I want to be the only girl left who hasn't got a date."

"Who d'you think Ron and Harry will ask?" Leslie asked suddenly, not even sure why she was interested, but was curious. She couldn't imagine Harry and Ron, two of her closest friends, two of the most dorkiest people she'd ever met (apart from herself and Hermione, of course), asking out girls. It was just weird.

"Oh I don't know, I expect Ron won't ask any girl, he hasn't got any confidence, I don't care _what_ he says. And Harry, well, he is famous in the wizarding world. I'm sure he won't have any trouble finding a date." Hermione replied. Leslie's stomach did something just then, and she wondered why she didn't like the idea of Harry having any girl he wanted. Maybe it was just strange, them being 14, already old enough to date. The thought made Leslie wish she were a kid again.

"Word of advice," Harry's voice startled Leslie from behind her. She turned to find him standing there, scrubbing his tongue with his coat sleeve, "don't try their new flavour! Flaming Pickles is _dees-gusting!"_ Ron appeared then, smiling from ear to ear. Leslie gathered he had found the Knut in his pocket.

As they left (Ron purchased a box of the new Bertie Bott's, so Leslie knew he had found it), Leslie pulled her hat back on her head, filled with new thoughts about dates and Harry and dresses and Christmas. Now, all she wanted to do was go back to Hogwarts. It was no more distracting in Hogsmeade then Hogwarts, especially not with Hermione around, who would not, _could_ not stop talking about the MistleBall.

"Do you want to go to Zonko's?" Harry asked when they had a moment's silence from Hermione's ramblings. Leslie simply nodded, but before the four friends even made it three steps, they heard it; a blood curdling scream from down the road.

Leslie's heart leapt into her throat as she turned toward the sound of the screaming, and though she didn't see who had screamed, she saw the cause of it.

There must have been about ten of them, all dressed in black cloaks and silver masks over their faces.

Deatheaters!

They were marching up and down the street of Hogsmeade, casting spells at people, starting fires to buildings, grabbing people, _kids_ and pushing them to the ground. Leslie barely had time to say anything, because she felt Harry's hand on her shoulder, and before she knew it, she and her three friends were running in the opposite direction from the Deatheaters, trying to follow the crowd of screaming and running people. Leslie clung tightly to her friends' arms, their hands, as they all tried everything they could to stick together, but with people running around in a panic, it was incredibly hard to keep a tight grip on anybody, but Leslie would _not_ let go, she would _not_ lose any one of them.

Leslie's chest was on fire, and her ears were ringing from all the shrieking. As her heart hammered against her chest, she tried not to think about how close behind her and her friends the Deatheaters were, and she could not will herself to turn around to see.

"Students! Boys and girls from Hogwarts!" Leslie was sure she heard McGonagall screaming from a distance. "Get back to the school! Get _back_ to the school!" In all the chaos of what was going on, Leslie didn't even know what direction they were running anymore; she only knew she was running away from the Deatheaters. Trying to get to Hogwarts seemed impossible.

Leslie scanned the crowd for any sign of a teacher, McGonagall, Wizzie or Crims. Surely if they could just find an adult, they could be directed toward Hogwarts and be safe, but they were nowhere to be found; Leslie couldn't even figure out what direction McGonagall's voice had come from. The thought that her grandmother was somewhere in this crowd, somewhere near those Deatheaters frightened her. She wanted to see McGonagall, know she was safe. Whizbees, were _any_ of them safe right now?

They heard a loud noise and before they knew it, a fireball had erupted against the side of the Hog's Head, which caused the ground to rumble, sending everyone nearby to their knees, including Leslie and her friends.

"Come on, get up!" Harry screamed, grabbing Leslie's hand and hoisting her up. Leslie took a struggled breath and looked around, but she didn't see them. The crowd had begun scurrying again, pushing against one another, brushing roughly past her and Harry. She swallowed hard, letting out a gasp. She couldn't find them. Hermione and Ron. They were gone.

"Harry! Hermione and Ron, they've-"

"I know, Leslie, we'll find them, let's go!" Harry would _not_ let go of Leslie's hand, as they ran through the crowd, scanning over the crowd for bright red hair and a bushy head of hair, but they couldn't see anything! Leslie began to cry, as she thought about everything that could be happening to them. What if they had been left behind and the Deatheaters got a hold of them? What if they had been hurt?

"Ron!" Leslie screamed. "Hermione!" No response, only more screaming and shrieking from the crowd, a lot of people were shouting other names. It seemed as though everyone were looking for someone. The fire kept coming, and Leslie swore she could hear the Deatheaters approaching. She struggled for her breath.

"Leslie, come _on_, you can't stop!" Harry shouted over the crowd, clinging so tightly to Leslie's hand that it hurt. Leslie shook her head.

"But, what if-"

Leslie got shoved hard in the back and flew into Harry's arms, who had caught her quickly and steadied her, still holding her hand. Standing still wasn't working - it was a bad idea, they were getting crushed by all the people.

"We have to keep moving, they're here, we'll find them, Leslie!" Harry shouted, yanking Leslie forward, much to her hesitation.

"Hermione, no!" Leslie was sure it was Ron's voice, but it was so distant, and she didn't know where it was coming from. Leslie's heart skipped a beat when she heard it.

"Hermione!" She screamed out, turning away from Harry for only a moment, but that was when it happened. In only seconds, she felt Harry's hand pull away from her, and then Harry screaming out her name. She turned around in only enough time to see Harry being pushed down the street by the rushing crowd. He was trying so hard to push through them, but they were on a mission too, and he was too little to get past.

"Harry, no!" Leslie screamed, trying to run through the crowd to find Harry, but with all the wizards and witches lining the street in a frantic panic, Leslie quickly lost sight of Harry.

She was alone.

"Harry!" She screamed out in a panic. "Hermione! Ron!" She shouted, but her voice was lost among the crowd. She tried to rush through the crowd, but she found herself being pushed back further and further until she realized there was no more crowd to be pushed around by. Hogsmeade's streets were now empty, and as Leslie frantically tried to run to catch up to the disappearing crowd, she felt a cold, tight grip enclose her arm, yanking her back and suddenly, a black bag was thrown over her head, and more hands grabbing at her arms and legs.

"I've got her!"

"You're sure it's her?"

"Yes, I'm sure! Let's get out of here!"

Leslie began screaming frantically as she realized that what Lucius had said all those months had been true all along. Voldemort _did_ want Leslie for something, and now, they had her.

"Harry!" She screamed out, feeling pain in her muscles and joints as the group of Deatheaters (she guessed there were three of them) pulled and yanked at a struggling Leslie, who kicked and flailed with everything she had in her.

"Harry!" She pleaded, screaming at the top of her lungs as she felt herself lifted off the ground and being carried away quickly. She could no longer find her voice to scream for her friends; all fear had engulfed her.

"_Stupify!" _A voice shouted three times suddenly, and Leslie felt herself drop to the ground as hands that had been grabbing her disappeared. Leslie scrambled to grab at the hood on her head, and as she shakily pulled it away, she saw Harry standing over her, wand at the ready, staring beyond Leslie at what must be the Deatheaters he had just taken out. Leslie felt a sob in her throat, but before she could say anything, he began shouting at her.

"Your wand, Leslie, get your _wand!"_

Leslie quickly struggled to her feet and whipped her wand out of her pocket, trying to keep her stomach calm and her hands from shaking too much. Right now, she would have to fight, forget what had just happened, forget about what could have happened to Ron and Hermione, forget she had nearly been taken to Voldemort himself. Right now, she had to void herself of that.

The three Deatheaters recovered quickly and pulled out their own wands, but Leslie and Harry were ready this time.

"_Stupify!"_

"_Crucio!"_

"_Rictusempra!"_

"_Crucio!"_

"_Reducto!"_

"_Stupify!"_

Leslie did her best to block the spells that were being aimed at her, but she felt her throat tightening when the Deatheaters tried to perform the _Cruciatus Curse_, but she would not think of Bellatrix Lestrange, not now.

As Leslie blocked spells, and performed defensive spells, she saw more Deatheaters approaching the three, and she immediately began to panic, but before she even had a chance to throw more spells toward them, the lot of them disappeared in a swirl of billowing black smoke, sending Leslie and Harry down hard on their knees. Leslie clung to Harry tightly, not breathing, not looking. She knew the Deatheaters had Apparated out of Hogsmeade, but she couldn't will herself to open her eyes.

"Leslie." Harry tried, as Leslie felt a hand on her arm. She wouldn't let go of him, she wouldn't open her eyes, she wouldn't breath. It had been too close. It wasn't happening. A tear escaped her eye.

"Leslie." Harry tried again, his hand going over the hand she was gripping Harry's shirt with tightly. "It's over."

No, it wasn't over, Leslie could faint from exhaustion, scream from fear, cry with terror. It wasn't over.

"Leslie!" A new voice shouted suddenly, but Leslie would not budge, as she clung to Harry, but she felt new hands on her arms, and whoever had come up behind her was now lifting her up off the ground, and turning her around as Leslie's hands finally let go of Harry. Leslie still couldn't open her eyes, but she let a breath escape, and it was more of a sob.

"Leslie, dear, look at me." The calming, familiar voice said, and as Leslie shook like a leaf, she slowly opened her eyes and looked up to find Professor Crims holding her, and looking at her with such worry in her eyes. Leslie began to cry.

"Oh Leslie, sweetheart, what _happened?_" Crims asked. But Leslie couldn't talk, she could only cry. She could hardly _breathe_, she could hardly stop shaking, and though Crims kept prodding, Leslie couldn't speak. Defeated, Crims turned to Harry.

"What happened, Harry?" She asked. And so Harry, his own voice shaking slightly, told Professor Crims all about it.

"They were after Leslie, Professor." Harry said, when he was done. "I heard them say they had found her. They were here for Leslie, and they were going to take her away. If...if I hadn't..." He couldn't finish the sentence, and Leslie was glad. She couldn't ever think like that. If Harry hadn't...oh _Whizbees!_ She continued to shake from sobs.

"Alright dear, you're okay now, I'm here, you're _safe._" Crims pulled Leslie carefully toward herself and engulfed her, holding her close and shushing her quietly, as Leslie continued to shake and cry.

It wasn't long before she heard panting nearby and she peeked up in just enough time to see Ron running toward them. Leslie pulled away from Crims and finally managed to speak.

"R-Ron?" She asked, looking around in a panic for Hermione, but didn't see her. "Where's-"

"We've got to get back to the school!" Ron exclaimed, grabbing at Harry's sleeve and tugging him along. "Hermione's been hurt!"

Before any explanation could be offered, Ron led the way as he, Harry, Leslie and Professor Crims ran back toward Honeydukes, where it had all started. Leslie feared what she was going to find. Those words rang through her skull. _Hermione's been hurt._ Leslie momentarily forgot everything that had happened, and only thought about Hermione. She had to be okay, she _had_ to be.

Leslie stopped in her tracks and her breath caught in her throat when Ron finally stopped. Leslie saw her, lying on the snowy pavement, unconscious, her busy hair strewn wildly around her pale face. Leslie felt tears biting at her eyes, as she felt Crims' hand rest gently on her shoulder.

"Ron, what _happened?_" Harry asked as he dropped to the ground next to Hermione, carefully moving her hair from her face. Ron was still shaking.

"I-I d-don't know, one minute she was beside m-me, and the n-next, she was down. I d-didn't know what to d-do, I had to l-leave her to f-find someone to help." He stammered. Crims approached Hermione then, and knelt down beside her, giving Ron a pat on the back first.

"It's alright Ron, you did the right thing." She looked at Hermione for a moment, and then pulled out her wand, allowing it to hover over Hermione ever so slightly.

"_Acclaro Morbus."_ She said quietly and a cloudy white mist seemed to evaporate from Hermione's body, and Crims simply nodded, as though everything had made perfect sense. Leslie, on the other hand, was completely confused.

"She's been hit with a knockout spell." Crims announced, rising to her feet once again. "She wasn't hit hard, so she's going to be alright."

Ron and Harry both let out sighs of relief, but Leslie could not feel good. Her friend, her _best_ friend was lying there, unconscious, and it was her fault. Those Deatheaters were only in Hogsmeade to get to her. All those fires, all those people shoved and pushed and hurt, it all happened because of her.

Numbness set in and she was barely aware of McGonagall's and Wizzie's sudden presence.

"Good Heavens, what has happened to Ms. Granger?" McGonagall asked as she stared at Hermione wide-eyed. Crims put up a hand to calm her.

"It's already, Minerva. She's been hit with a knockout spell, but only just. She is alright, but I do suggest Madame Pomfrey take a look at her." She replied. McGonagall nodded promptly.

"Yes, yes, of course. Daisy," McGonagall turned to Wizzie, "will you please bring Ms. Granger up to the school? You can use Apparation to get there quicker. I will send a message forth to Madame Pomfrey to meet you at the gates." Professor Wizzie nodded, and knelt down to scoop Hermione's frail body into her arms and without any words, quickly spun and was out of sight with a loud _crack._

"I must see to rounding up the rest of the students." McGonagall said suddenly, as she turned to leave.

"If you're comfortable with doing that alone, Minerva, I plan to escort these three back to the school. No doubt, they're worried about Hermione, and will probably want to be with her when she wakes up." Crims said quickly. McGonagall turned and considered for a moment, but then saw the look on Leslie's face, and nodded.

"Very well," and before she left, "Leslie, are you alright?"

Her grandmother didn't know about Lucius' warning in Knockturn Alley. She didn't know about Voldemort needing Leslie for some mysterious purpose. She didn't know that the Deatheaters had simply come to Hogsmeade with the sole intention of grabbing Leslie. Leslie couldn't tell McGonagall any of that. It would worry her too greatly. She simply cleared her throat and managed a nod.

"Fine, Professor." She replied. "I just want to be with Hermione."

McGonagall nodded, and ran back up the streets of Hogsmeade, calling out various names and houses. Leslie sighed, and quietly followed Crims and the boys back up to the castle, still feeling her entire body shivering. Maybe they were safe at Hogwarts, but what if they weren't? And now, everything was confirmed. Lucius had been right all along. Voldemort really did want her for something, and it brought fear to the very core of her to imagine what that purpose would be.

* * *

It wasn't long before Leslie, Harry and Ron were seated by a small bed in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, talking to Hermione who had woken up only moments before they had arrived. She was alright, just a little sore in her shoulder, where the spell had hit her, but other than that, she was as good as new. Leslie felt immense relief, realizing that it could have been much worse. She could have been hit with the _Killing Curse, _the _Cruciatus Curse, _anything, but she had been lucky. Leslie could have lost her best friend today, but she didn't. She was so grateful. She would never take Hermione for granted again, even if it meant suffering through her talk about the MistleBall.

Of course, Harry and Leslie told Ron and Hermione all about what had happened on their end. About being separated from each other and about the three Deatheaters who had grabbed Leslie, nearly taking her away. Of course, Harry had to tell that part, it still shook Leslie to her very core to think about. Those slimy, cold hands on her, that sack over her head...she knew she'd be having nightmares about this for days.

Hermione was savagely worried, but Leslie tried to convince her everything was okay, even though the four of them knew everything was _far_ from okay. The Deatheaters were out there, and now it had been confirmed. They _did_ need Leslie for something. The only solace they had was that they were within Hogwart's walls, but with Lucius being the father of Draco, _anything_ could happen.

"We need to rely on that map now more than ever." Harry said, glancing at Leslie significantly. Leslie only nodded. She wasn't thinking about the map, she wasn't thinking about herself, not right then. All she saw was Hermione in that hospital bed. She'd been hurt, and for the first time since last year, Leslie finally understood why Harry had asked her if it was worth it to be his friend. Leslie had been the victim the previous year, used as bait to get to Harry. Harry had been adamantly upset that Leslie ended up hurt because they were after Harry, and now Leslie understood. The Deatheaters were after her, and Hermione got hurt. She hated that her friends were targets too, in fact, the thought _sickened her_.

At the same time, it broke her heart to imagine distancing herself from them to keep them safe. Leslie had told Harry the previous year that they were all in this together, no turning back. She knew she had been right, it wouldn't matter how much she tried to turn away from them, segregate herself, they wouldn't leave her, and she couldn't leave them. Sirius was right, they had to take care of each other now. It was the only thing that made sense right now.


	19. The Day After

That night was nothing but a nightmare for Leslie, tossing and turning all night as vivid dreams about her day in Hogsmeade plagued her, while fear and anxiety gripped her all morning, especially when she frequently checked the Marauder's Map for any suspicious behaviour. The next morning, she wished she knew how to apply makeup, or some kind of charm, because she immediately noticed dark circles under her eyes. It didn't take a genius for her to realize that was a direct result of sleeping improperly. It wasn't just from tonight; it was no secret she hadn't been sleeping well since school started. She knew her friends were beginning to notice too, but she was secretly thankful they were keeping their mouths shut about it.

Leslie was beginning to wonder if her grandmother knew something was wrong. When everyone had returned back to the castle from Hogsmeade the previous day, McGonagall had come up to the common room to check in on Leslie, but Leslie had lied, saying she was perfectly well, just tired. The last thing Leslie wanted was for her grandmother to know about Lucius' threats and what had _really_ happened in Hogsmeade that day. She didn't want her to worry. It was bad enough McGonagall worried that Leslie would get into mischief at Hogwarts; add on Deatheaters chasing her and it would be the straw that broke the camel's back.

Professor Crims, on the other hand, had continuously asked Leslie how she was doing for the rest of that day. She had checked in on her in the Gryffindor common room (she had acquired the password from Neville) and passed by during dinner to see if she was okay. Ron thought she was being overbearing, but Leslie was secretly glad. It felt, well, _nice_, to have someone fussing over her.

Sirius had somehow found out about the attack on Hogsmeade as well, and quickly wrote them all a letter only hours after they had arrived back from Hogsmeade, telling them to meet him in a secret passageway they would find on the Marauders's Map. As they sat huddled in a low tunnel underneath the Great Hall, Sirius listened intently while Leslie and Harry told him all about what had happened in Hogsmeade. Harry had to tell him about what had happened to Leslie, she was still quite shaken up over it. Sirius didn't look happy, in fact, Leslie noticed he looked down right _scared!_ It didn't make Leslie feel any ease over the situation. Sirius didn't say much after that, only enforcing to them the grave importance of keeping each other close, especially now.

"Now we have evidence the Deatheaters are after Leslie. It's your job to keep each other safe. Harry," Sirius said, looking at his only godson with conviction in his eyes. "Don't let Leslie out of your sight if you can help it."

Of course, it was easy to be safe at Hogwarts. There were no Deatheaters here, not with Dumbledore around. With Dumbledore being the most powerful wizard there ever was, a Deatheater wouldn't be able to get into Hogwarts without his knowledge. That was for sure!

Still, Leslie periodically checked the Marauder's Map to be safe.

The morning after the Hogsmeade attack, Leslie felt disoriented and cranky. Her left shoulder was sore, no doubt from when that Deatheater had dropped her on the concrete pavement. Sighing, she yanked her pajama shirt over to find a fresh purple bruise on her shoulder. _Great._ She moaned, ripping her shirt off and replacing it with a green hoodie. While she brushed her hair and began to part her hair for her pigtails, Hermione stirred in her bed.

"Good morning Leslie." She said as she stretched.

"Hey." Leslie replied. The other girls had already gone down for breakfast. Leslie didn't care if she missed it. She wasn't hungry anyway. And Hermione, well-

"Oooh it's Sunday!" Hermione promptly jumped out of bed and began to get dressed. "I've got to get to McGonagall's office to get to London! Mum will be waiting for me by the fireplace." Leslie remained silent, focusing on her hair, even though she wasn't even _thinking_ about her hair. Of course, all she could think about was how much fun Hermione was going to have with her mother, and how unfair it was that Leslie would never have that opportunity.

As Hermione continued to get dressed, and gather her things, Leslie busied herself around the dorm, gathering textbooks for show. She did, after all, tell Hermione she wouldn't be able to go because of all the homework she had to do. Truth be told, her homework was already caught up, but if Hermione knew that, there would be no good excuse for her to stay at the castle while the Granger's shopping trip was going on in London.

As Leslie placed her seventh textbook on top of her pile, Hermione was ready to go.

"Leslie, are you _sure_ you don't want to come?" Hermione asked then. Leslie felt horrible. Hermione seemed so upset that her best friend wasn't coming. Leslie did feel bad. She knew it was what best friends were supposed to do, shop for dresses together. And it wouldn't have been a problem if it were just Hermione and Leslie shopping in Hogsmeade, but Leslie knew she wouldn't be able to deal with seeing Mrs. Granger, and _especially _with seeing them both together as mother and daughter. Leslie, instead, breathed out and stared at her pile of books.

"Sorry, Hermione, I've let myself fall behind," she said. "Besides, like I've said, I've already got a dress."

Hermione stared at her skeptically for a few seconds, but Leslie looked away, unable to look her best friend in the eye and lie like that. Hermione breathed out.

"Well, alright." She said, obviously defeated. "I suppose I'll see you tonight then." Leslie nodded and forced herself to tell Hermione to have a good time and waited until Hermione had left the dormitory before she put all her textbooks back under her bed. She wanted to cry, yes, she felt the tears coming as she leaned up against her bed, clutching her knees, but she swallowed hard, forcing to think of something else. Honestly though, she felt as though she were ready to explode. With everything she had been feeling about the Grangers and her own feelings, and now add to that the Deatheater attack from yesterday, well, Leslie wasn't sure how much more she could take.

Checking herself in the mirror to ensure the circles under her eyes weren't too noticeable, she settled for heading out of the dormitory and joining the boys in the common room, where they were playing wizard's chess. They were both so into their game, they hardly noticed Leslie's presence. Yes, they said hi, but Ron was winning, and Harry was determined to beat him, so Leslie found a place by the fire, and stared into it, deep in thought.

She tried not to let her mind wander to the fact that Hermione was probably already in her living room back home right now, greeting her mother and father in London. Leslie tried not to think about how much fun she would have shopping for a dress if she didn't have Mrs. Granger there, the constant reminder that Leslie would never have a mother.

It didn't matter how hard Leslie _tried_ not to think about it. She still did.

Leslie didn't know how long she sat in that armchair, staring into the fire and vaguely hearing shouts of triumph or defeat from the boys, but soon, a small tapping noise came from behind the Fat Lady's portrait. Leslie looked up, and waited, until whatever was making that noise tapped a little harder.

Leslie looked over at the boys, who clearly hadn't noticed, so with a roll of her eyes, Leslie jumped up and headed over to the inside of the portrait, which she pushed aside.

The noise had been someone knocking, and that someone was Professor Crims.

"Oh!" Leslie exclaimed, surprised to see her. "Hello, Professor." Professor Crims flashed a smile.

"Hello, Leslie, I'm sorry to knock, but you know, I don't know the new password to the Gryffindor common room, and the Fat Lady didn't seem all too convinced about allowing me entry because I'm a professor. She still sees me as a Ravenclaw, unfortunately, and rather than continuing to argue with her, I decided to knock. Let's just say she wasn't too keen on that either. She said it hurt." Crims explained. Leslie laughed a little.

"Well, she is a bit thick." She pointed out in a quiet voice, so as not to disturb the Fat Lady. Crims smiled.

"Well, I do hope you aren't busy, because I need you for something quite important." She said, changing the subject rather quickly. Leslie puckered her brow.

"For what?" She asked. Crims shook her head.

"No, no, Leslie, now that's a secret. But do trust me, it is very important, and it must only be you." She replied. Leslie's curiosity was welling up inside of her, as Crims seemed to be absolutely bubbling over with excitement over whatever secret task she was talking about.

Peeking her head back inside the common room to see Ron and Harry starting a new game, she knew she wouldn't be missed, so she stepped out of the room, closing the portrait behind her.

"Alright, I suppose I can come." She said, ignoring the Fat Lady as she was mumbling on about being taken advantage of by students. Crims smiled at Leslie as the two walked down the moving staircase.

"Don't worry, my dear, it won't take long. I know you have a lot of homework to catch up on." She replied. Leslie didn't look up at her professor then, she only managed a small nod. Hermione must have told her. That was the reason behind being unable to go to London with her mother, after all. Leslie hated all this lying, but what else was she supposed to do?

It didn't matter, because Crims didn't press the subject further. In fact, Leslie wasn't even sure if Crims believed the whole lie. Crims knew Leslie was nearly as dedicated as Hermione was when it came to schoolwork. To be behind in homework was just, well, ridiculous!

Now that Leslie thought about it, Hermione must have thought it was just as ridiculous. Whizbees, Leslie wasn't even good at _lying_ properly.

Well, either way, Leslie was thankful Hermione didn't push her into going to London. The last thing she had wanted was to get into a row with Hermione.

Leslie found herself in Professor Crims' office, sitting in the ever-popular navy blue velvet chair, waiting while Crims brewed a pot of tea, again, without magic. Leslie still didn't understand. In fact, she was tempted to just flick her wand and make the tea herself, but she still had to respect her teacher, she supposed, no matter _how_ curious she was about why she was even brought here.

Finally, after Professor Crims handed Leslie a cup of tea and sat down herself, she began to speak.

"How are you doing, Leslie?" She asked. Leslie hadn't expected that. No doubt, Crims was referring to the day before in Hogsmeade. As worrisome as Crims had been yesterday, Leslie _should_ have expected it, but in all honesty, the way Crims made this meeting sound so crucial, Leslie would have thought they would have gotten right to it, whatever _it_ was.

"Oh, well," Leslie cleared her throat. "I guess...okay." Of course she wasn't okay. She was the target of Deatheaters, and Voldemort _himself!_ But, Crims already knew that.

"Oh Leslie, I'm just _so_ sorry you had to go through all that." Crims said sadly, as she placed down her tea. "I feel absolutely awful that I wasn't there to help you." Leslie looked down with a shrug.

"Well, you couldn't have known." She replied. "Besides, I'm lucky Harry was there." Lucky? No, that was the wrong word, somehow. If Harry hadn't been there...

"Well, Leslie, I assure you the Ministry is performing a full investigation on the attack on Hogsmeade. Hopefully something will come of it. And Leslie, if this is bothering you, don't let yourself go through it alone, alright?" When Leslie nodded, Crims flashed her grin again. "Wonderful. Now, I want to bring up another serious matter." Leslie puckered her brow. Was this why Crims pulled her out of the Gryffindor common room on a Sunday?

"What is it?" Leslie asked, genuinely curious and even feeling a little excited.

"Well, Leslie, yesterday, I heard the lot of you talking about the ball." She paused and stared at Leslie seriously. "You don't have a dress, do you my dear?"

Leslie's stomach dropped. Alright, a thousand possibilities had raced through her mind as to why Crims needed her on a Sunday, but _this_ was beyond anything she had thought of. Was she _actually_ inquiring as to whether she had a dress for the ball? Leslie felt sick to her stomach. She had already lied to Hermione, how could she lie to her professor too?

"Er..." Leslie started, and finally breathed out, putting her tea down. "No, I don't." Crims raised an eyebrow.

"Well, why not?" She asked. Leslie looked at her. This was so bizarre.

"Um, well, I don't _own_ one. A dress, that is." She breathed out. "Besides, it doesn't matter anyway, because I don't plan on actually_ going_ to the ball." Crims laughed a little.

"Well now Leslie, that's just silly. Why aren't you going to the ball?" She asked.

"I don't have a dress." Leslie tried. She had a feeling that wasn't going to be good enough though. She was right.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, Leslie, but I think I remember Hermione asking you to go with her into London today to go shopping for a dress with her mother. Didn't she?" Crims asked. Leslie swallowed.

"Yes."

"Well, why didn't you go into London, then? I'm sure your grandmother would have given you some gold for a dress, and Leslie, let's be honest with each other here; you _aren't_ behind on your homework, are you?"

"No."

"So why didn't you go to London?"

"I-" Leslie felt her heart beating faster and faster within her. This was _not_ the conversation she wanted to be having. She didn't want to face this, she _didn't._ "I just, well, I just don't want to go to the ball." She stuttered. No, it wasn't a lie. She didn't want to go to the ball. She hoped that would be enough for Crims,

but it wasn't.

"Why not?" Professor Crims asked. Leslie sighed.

"I don't know, I just-"

"Isn't it every teenage girl's ambition to go to a dance?"

"Well, I-"

"Oh Leslie, think of how fun it is, to do your hair, and have your makeup done, and to wear a pretty little dress."

"That's not fun!" Leslie was surprised at herself, she had yelled that last bit. She promptly cleared her throat and apologized, leaning back in her seat, feeling rather embarrassed. Professor Crims didn't seem taken aback by that. In fact, she sat there as though she had been anticipating an outburst from Leslie.

"Why isn't it fun?" She wanted to know.

"It just isn't. It's all so stupid." Leslie lied.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you do, Leslie, I know you have a reason in there somewhere as to why you don't want to go, so why don't you just-"

"How could it be fun, professor? Everyone _else_ thinks it's fun because they've all got their mums helping them buy a dress, or telling them how to fix their hair, or teaching them how to apply makeup and such! Yes it's fun for _them_, because it's nice and easy for them! But me? No, I don't have a mum! I don't need to be reminded of that because of a stupid dance!" Leslie screamed out, tears threatening to escape. Whizbees, how could Crims _do_ this to her? Here, Leslie was thinking Crims wanted her for something special, something exciting, and all she was doing was making her feel worse about everything. Now, she wanted nothing more than to let all those tears escape, but Crims was sitting _right_ here!

Professor Crims watched Leslie carefully, eyes moist themselves, but Leslie didn't see that. She was too busy keeping her head down and biting her lip to keep herself from losing it. Finally, Crims nodded with a bit of a smile.

"I was waiting for that." She admitted in a calm voice. Leslie breathed out loudly, looking up at her teacher. Waiting for that? So, had she brought Leslie here simply to see her fall apart?

"What do you _mean, _you were _waiting_ for that?" She said as evenly as she could, but it was hard. She felt so vulnerable and that made her angry. Crims simply smiled.

"Oh Leslie, I see that look in your eyes when Hermione talks about her mother. I saw you run off during your birthday party when her parents showed up. I even know you haven't been responding to Mrs. Granger's letters. Yes, Hermione told me, but don't be upset with her. I simply asked her if you were alright, but she doesn't seem to know much about you right now, Leslie." She breathed out. "Leslie dear, I know it hurts you that you don't have a mother, but you know, that doesn't mean you can't let other people in your life be a 'mum' to you."

"But Professor, you _don't_ understand!" Leslie clasped her hands together tightly. "It's not even that I don't have a mother _right now!_ At least if that were the problem, I could have all these wonderful memories to fall back on. But, I've _never_ had a mum! She was never there for me, or nice to me, or anything else that Mrs. Granger is to Hermione! I don't know _anything_ about what mum's are supposed to teach their daughters! I'm...well, I'm on my own."

Crims leaned forward then and took Leslie's hands in her own and squeezed them tightly.

"You're not alone." She said quietly. "You need not pretend to be." Leslie didn't say anything, she just continued biting on her lip, staring a corner of carpet that was lifting off the floor. Crims nodded, and released Leslie's hands after another squeeze.

"Well, Leslie, I can see this conversation is bothering you, so why don't we talk about something else? Like, oh I don't know, this dance for example. Let me finish!" She smiled. "Leslie, come now. You're 14 years old. You're a teenager now. You're growing up, and you simply _must_ go to this dance. It's all part of being a teenager, you know. Trust me on this." Leslie breathed out, wiping away a small tear that had formed in the corner of her eye. She shook her head.

"But...I don't have a dress." She admitted, feeling rather stupid now for all her lies to Hermione and now the dance was right around the corner and she didn't have a dress. She wasn't sure she actually wanted to go to the dance, in fact, the whole idea still made her nervous. All the girls would brag about their mothers and their shopping and their hairstyles and Leslie wouldn't have any of it. But the idea of having a fun night with her friends was captivating and exciting. It didn't matter though, not now. She wouldn't be able to buy a dress. Her grandmother also thought she had a dress, since she believed the same lie Hermione did. There was no way Leslie would be able to ask McGonagall for money for a dress without admitting to the lie.

Crims only smiled.

"You don't worry about a thing, Leslie. Don't worry about a dress, don't worry about hair, don't worry about makeup. You spend the next couple of weeks focusing on your studies. Just come to my quarters two hours before the Mistleball, just as you are, and everything will be fine." She explained. Leslie puckered her brow.

"But-" Crims put up a hand and winked.

"Trust me."


	20. Anticipation

(this was one of my favourite chapters to write...I hope you all enjoy :)

* * *

The Mistleball was two hours away.

Leslie stood in front of the full-length mirror in her dormitory, feeling apprehensive. Over the past few weeks, she had pondered over Crims' request greatly. _Don't worry about a dress, don't worry about hair, don't worry about makeup. You spend the next couple of weeks focusing on your studies. Just come to my quarters two hours before the Mistleball, just as you are, and everything will be fine_.

Crims had expressed her belief that this dance was really important for Leslie, and despite her slight anticipation of the event, she couldn't help but wonder what Crims was going to do with her.

Hermione, on the other hand, was running around the dormitory frantically, looking for the earrings her mother had bought for her in London the weekend she went home. Parvati and Lavender were also scrambling, fighting over the vanity mirror while they tried to put on their makeup. Leslie sighed, wondering how these girls already knew how to apply makeup. She shook her head to herself, already knowing the answer; their mums taught them.

Leslie took one final glance in the mirror, taking in her black jeans, her baggy green hoodie and loose pigtails and turned away. She checked her watch and realized it was time to go to Professor Crims' office.

Ignoring the giggles and excited chatter coming from her three roommates, she turned to leave.

"Leslie, where are you going?" Hermione asked, turning away from brushing her hair to stare at Leslie. "Don't you need to get ready?" Leslie breathed out, taking a glance at Lavender and Parvati, who were also staring at her curiously.

"I am going to get ready." Leslie said simply, knowing it would confuse them even more, but she had no idea what the next two hours were going to hold. Being cryptic was the only thing Leslie could do at the moment.

Ignoring the curious stares of her roommates, she exited her dormitory, heading down the stairs and wondering to herself how it could possibly take a girl two hours to get ready for a dance, when she knew Harry and Ron would simply slip into their dress robes and go.

Sighing, Leslie slowly trudged her way down to Professor Crims' office, unsure of what to expect. She felt so conflicted - part of her felt excited about the dance, but there was still that part of her that was constantly reminded of the fact that she was an orphan.

Still, there was a part of her that was thankful to be getting away from the dormitory and all the talk of girly things and mothers. It was too much to handle.

Feeling drained, exhausted and unsure, Leslie gently rapped on her professor's quarter's door.

She heard scurrying on the other side until the door opened quickly. Professor Crims looked down at Leslie with a wide grin and a sparkle in her eye. Leslie smiled back, but only just.

"Good evening, Professor." Leslie said politely, shoving her hands in her jeans' pockets. Crims shook her head, still smiling.

"Hello Leslie, do come in." She said, putting a hand on Leslie's shoulder and coaxing her inside. Crims shut the door behind her and followed Leslie inside. Leslie felt a little uncomfortable - she had never been here before. She had been in Crims' office, but never her quarters. Whizbees, she hadn't even been her to her _grandmother's_ quarters. It felt a little strange, but then, it was Professor Crims. Leslie never felt uncomfortable around her.

"Leslie, are you getting excited?" Crims asked with a wide smile, clapping her hands together. Leslie sighed, wishing she could humor her professor. Leslie knew how much Crims thought this dance was important, but Leslie wasn't quite there. She only shrugged.

"I dunno." She said quietly. Crims only laughed a little.

"You'll change your mind once you get to the Great Hall." She gently placed her hands on Leslie's shoulders. "Now then, Leslie, we have got a little less than two hours to transform you from the beauty you already are into a _goddess._" Leslie rolled her eyes a little.

"Good luck." She muttered quietly. Professor Crims tilted her head a little, narrowing her eyebrows ever so slightly.

"Excuse me?" She asked. Leslie looked away, feeling herself blushing. She cleared her throat, not meeting her professor's gaze.

"Nothing, it's just...well, nobody's ever told me I was...well, pretty before." She admitted, feeling stupid. It was true - neither of her parents had ever given her a compliment of any sorts, and being the most unpopular kid at school before she came to Hogwarts, well, she had acquired a list of other nicknames, none of which were complimentary.

Crims smiled.

"Oh Leslie, I promise you, it won't be the last time." She took Leslie's arm and led her to a small stool that faced a wide mahogany dresser with a giant mirror. Leslie obeyed her professor's request to sit, and she nervously tugged at her shirt sleeves while Crims eyed the objects on the dresser. Leslie noticed them; a hairbrush, bobby pins, some kind of goop, and an array of circular jars with colorful substances she only assumed _must _be makeup.

She swallowed.

"Um, professor? Is...is this stuff going to make me look, well, y'know, _weird?_" Leslie asked. Crims didn't answer, she only laughed a little. It made Leslie even _more_ nervous.

Leslie watched as Crims circled Leslie and stopped behind her, staring at Leslie's reflection in the mirror. Her hands went straight to Leslie's hair, each taking a pigtail and holding them up.

"Well, the first thing that must go are these pigtails." Professor Crims said as she gently removed the elastic bands keeping Leslie's hair in place. Taking the hairbrush, Crims began maneuvering it between Leslie's tangles. Leslie couldn't help but notice how strange it seemed to have her hair down, even for a moment. Ever since she could remember, she had worn her hair in pigtails, eventually becoming so skilled at it, she didn't need a brush or a mirror. Seeing her hair down was odd, at best.

Leslie sat as still as she could while Professor Crims played with her hair, moved it this way and that, pinned it here, sprayed it there. Leslie couldn't understand why Crims wouldn't just use magic and have Leslie finished in the flash of an eye.

Crims then turned Leslie to face her, and she began applying strange liquids and powders all over her face. Most of this stuff, Leslie had never seen before, except on her mother's dresser, but Leslie was never allowed in her parents' bedroom. How was it that Crims knew what to do with it all? Did Hermione know how to use this stuff? Had her mother taught her?

Leslie sighed. Of course she had.

"You alright, Leslie?" Professor Crims asked absently, as she was focused on evenly spreading colored powder on Leslie's closed eyelids. Leslie, not wanting to think about her pain for one night, faked a smile.

"Yes," she lied. "I'm fine."

She would be fine, if even just for one night, because even though she didn't have a mother to do her makeup or teach her how to do her hair, she had someone, right here, right now, doing it all for her, and without magic! For just a moment, Leslie wondered if this was what it was like to have a mother.

"Alright!" Crims said then, looking at Leslie with a large grin. "Your hair is fabulous! Your makeup is exquisite. The only thing we have left to worry about is your dress."

Leslie's heart sank. Didn't Crims remember? Leslie didn't have a dress. Leslie had trusted her professor up until this point, now she began to panic inside.

"D-dress?" Leslie asked, standing up, swallowing nervously. Crims could see the worry in Leslie's eyes, tapped her on the nose and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't you worry, little one." She smiled. "I may have gone shopping in Diagon Alley this weekend, with you in mind of course. Your new dress is hanging in the next room, all ready for you."

Leslie stared at Crims, tears welling up in her eyes, both surprised and moved. A dress. Professor Crims had gone to Diagon Alley to buy her a dress.

"Why?" Was the only word Leslie could think of. Why would anybody do such a thing for her?

Professor Crims smiled, that smile that never left Leslie without a doubt that she cared, and cared greatly. Eyes lit up and smile was genuine as any, Crims gave her answer.

"Leslie, you never had a mother," she paused. "Well, I've never had a daughter."

* * *

Harry was pacing. It wasn't as though he were nervous, but he was definitely uncomfortable in these dress robes. He kept tugging at his coat, wishing it wouldn't feel so bloody tight around his collar. Dances. What were they all about anyway? It seemed pointless to go through all this trouble just for a few hours of frivolity. That was the word McGonagall had used in class the other day, but Harry didn't care. He would be just as content for this night to be over.

He knew Ron felt the same way, although he had it much worse. Mrs. Weasley had sent Ron his dress robes a few weeks ago, very old-fashioned and used. Ron looked as though he were in the wrong era, and he moped about it all day and so far, all evening.

Harry guessed he should be counting his blessings, but even still, he felt like a right git, as they waited in the Great Hall foyer for Leslie.

Hermione had come down a few moments ago, and Harry had been surprised to find Leslie was not with her. Hermione explained she had no idea where Leslie was - she had taken off while the girls were getting ready, claiming she was going to do the same.

Now Harry couldn't help but wonder if Leslie would even show up. After all, she hadn't been as excited about this dance as Hermione was. Harry hoped she would go, he was already feeling like a third wheel.

For the most part, Hermione was just telling Ron to quit his belly-aching, but Harry saw the look in Ron's eyes. He couldn't stop staring at Hermione, no doubt taken aback by her appearance. She looked good, quite lovely without the bushy hair getting in her face. She wore her hair up in a tight roll, and she wore a flowing purple gown. Harry had smiled when he saw her, but Ron just couldn't stop staring. Embarrassing, really. Harry wondered if he had ever seen a girl in a dress and makeup before. Maybe it was just a shock to see Hermione so dolled up.

Harry sighed, checking his watch. Leslie had better get here soon, he wasn't sure how much more of Hermione's scolding or Ron's complaining he could take.

"Are you sure Leslie didn't say anything else about coming?" Harry asked rather impatiently. Hermione rolled her eyes, as she stared at Harry. It was strange talking to her when she was wearing makeup - it was like talking to a whole other person.

"I don't know, Harry. She said she was going to get ready, but I don't even know if she's going to come. She doesn't have a dress - I know she told me she did, but honestly, I _live_ with her. Unless she's hiding it elsewhere, I would have seen it. So I really don't know what to expect. I say we give her another ten minutes, and if she doesn't come down, we ought to just go to the dance." Hermione said, obviously irritated about something. Harry wondered if it had anything to do with Leslie's wonky moods lately. He knew, for the most part, what was bothering her, but she didn't talk much about it, so he let it go. He understood what she was going through, and also understood the need to keep things to herself. Hermione was probably just upset that she wasn't being let in on it, but Harry understood why Leslie felt she couldn't share, at least, not with Hermione.

Ron groaned suddenly.

"Well I don't _sodding_ blame Leslie. Bloody hell, who would want to come to a dance _anyway?_" He complained. "Whose idea was this, I'd like to lodge a complaint."

Harry ignored Hermione as she began to chastize Ron, and express the importance of inter-school relationships as per the reasons why the Mistleball was so important, but Harry knew Hermione was just as interested in dressing up and having a good time than promoting school unity.

He heard footsteps then, and turned around instinctively toward the sound, and stopped, his heart skipping a beat as he looked up the stairs at the figure descending slowly.

It was Leslie.

But then, it wasn't Leslie, not like he knew her.

He took her in, all of her, and couldn't even find his breath. She was...she was...

The pigtails were gone, replaced by long dark hair, halfway pinned behind her head with a sparkling gold clip of sorts. Her hair was pin straight, something Harry had never even known about her. In fact, he didn't think he had ever seen her hair down like this. Her face looked older, but then, it was still Leslie.

Her eyes were a powdered purple, outlined with black eyelashes that made Leslie's chocolate brown eyes more noticeable, more intense. Her pale cheeks were softened with a pink blush, and her lips a glossy plum. With her hair pulled back, Harry could see her ears, and the small teardropped diamond earrings that hung from them.

But what really tugged on Harry was her dress. He had always seen her in jeans, T-shirts, hoodies, and occasionally a jumper or summer skirt, but nothing like this. Her dress was a striking red, tied around her neck, revealing her soft shoulders. Diamond beads dotted her middle and the dress flowed freely around her ankles, with shiny black shoes peeking out.

And Leslie, walking down the stairs carefully while she scanned the crowd, was still Leslie, somehow. Harry felt his breath catching in his throat as she came closer. She was...well, Harry guessed she was beautiful.

But he could never say that to Leslie. She was...well, she was his best friend.

He swallowed hard, trying hard not to appear like a complete dolt as Leslie descended and smiled shyly.

Hermione's gasp interrupted Harry as he realized he wasn't the only one who noticed Leslie's presence.

"Leslie." Hermione said as her eyes glistened. "You look...you look _great_!" Harry could only smile his agreement. He was still lost for words.

Leslie smiled and looked down and Harry swore her cheeks got a little pinker.

"Thanks," she shrugged slightly. "I had a bit of help."

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come, I mean you know, because you took off like that. I wasn't sure _where_ exactly you were going to get ready but I suppose you..." Hermione went on, but Leslie was looking at Harry. He couldn't stop staring at her, and Leslie had quickly noticed. As Hermione went on, Leslie bit her lip to keep from smiling, blushing as Harry smiled back.

"Alright already, let's go and get this over and done with, please?" Ron complained. Leslie broke her eye contact with Harry to notice Ron motioning them all toward the Great Hall. Leslie cleared her throat and nodded as Ron led the way and the four friends walked through the carved wooden doors that led to the Great Hall.


	21. The Mistleball

The entire hall was transformed! Leslie guessed her grandmother must have had a hand in decorating, as it seemed everything had been transfigured in some way. The enchanted ceiling illuminated the evening's snowfall, while shimmering icicles hung from the corners of the room. The walls were plastered white, with green pine trees bordering the room, all neatly decked in Christmas decor. The four house tables had all been moved aside and replaced with ice sculptures of the house mascots: a snake, a badger, a raven and, of course, a lion. Tinsel was tossed everywhere and the floor was solid ice, charmed to take away the slip. Mistletoe hung in the center of the room and decals of candy canes, snowflakes and stockings plastered the walls.

Leslie's eyes lit up as she observed the Great Hall. Not only were the decorations fantastic, but everyone _looked_ fantastic! Tuxedos, dress robes, gowns of every style and color, fancy hair and makeup. Everybody looked spectacular.

Leslie noticed a lot of new faces she didn't recognize, and she quickly remembered they had visitors this evening from Beaubaxtons and Durmstrang. Leslie suddenly felt very shy.

"Wow, they've really outdone themselves, I-" Harry couldn't even finish his sentence, because Ron's sudden gasp caused them all to jump out of their skin.

"What? What's wrong?" Leslie asked, immediately wondering if he had seen a Death Eater. Bloody hell, she _knew_ she should have checked the Marauder's Map before getting herself ready for this dance.

"I didn't know the _Magical Misfits_ were going to be playing here tonight!" Ron exclaimed, running forward to the stage where Leslie noticed a group of older witches and wizards playing guitars and keyboards. Leslie realized Ron was talking about the band. She rolled her eyes.

"Don't mind him, the _Magical Misfits_ are his favourite, although he's not too keen to admit to that any other time. They really aren't that great." Harry explained. Leslie laughed.

"Well, I suppose we won't be seeing much of Ron for the evening, then." She pointed out. She turned and realized Hermione was gone as well.

"Where did Hermione go, then?" She asked. Harry shrugged.

"Dunno, maybe she went to get us some punch." He replied. Leslie sighed. It didn't matter, the music was loud, the atmosphere was excitable and Leslie was thrilled.

"Well, should we take a walk around, then?" Harry asked. Leslie nodded and the two walked through the Great Hall, stopping to chat with a few people, Neville, Ginny, Professor Flitwick. Leslie was just grinning from ear to ear, this _was_ fun. She hadn't expected a dance to be fun, but she was having a great time, listening to the music, chatting and laughing with her friends, drinking punch and butterbeer, complimenting each other's gowns. She was laughing with Ginny when she caught Professor Crims' eye over at the beverage table. Crims was wearing a long navy blue dress with spaghetti strap sleeves and long white gloves. Her hair was curled and pulled back, and when she caught sight of Leslie, she gave her a wink. Leslie smiled, secretly thankful for everything Professor Crims had done to force her into coming to this dance. As much as Leslie hadn't wanted to go, she was glad she had.

"Leslie, is that you?" A distantly familiar voice said from behind, and when Leslie turned around, stared at the girl for a moment before she smiled from ear to ear.

"Tenille!" She cried out, enveloping her old friend in a tight hug. "I, I hardly recognized you."

It was true. Tenille Smythe was two years older than the last time Leslie had seen her, and back in their second year at Hogwarts, Tenille had kept her hair in tight braids at all times, and had thick-rimmed glasses that hid her green eyes. Now, her hair was down past her shoulders, loose and with some curls. The glasses were gone, and Tenille's green eyes stood out with her makeup. She wore a festive purple gown and she stood three inches taller than Leslie. Two years ago, they had been nearly the same height.

"I wondered if you would come. When I heard Beaubaxtons would be coming to Hogwarts for the Mistleball, I thought of you. It's good to see you, Tenille." Leslie said, staring at the friend who had been forced out of Hogwarts because of Lucius Malfoy.

"Well, of _course_ I was going to come. I wanted to see you, for one thing, but I think it's good for me to force myself to step foot in this school again, you know, after everything that happened. It seems as though nobody remembers me, but then, nobody really knew what happened either." Tenille explained. Leslie sighed.

"Well, maybe that's a good thing. It must be strange, coming back here. I mean, it's been two years, hasn't it? Although, it just seems like yesterday we were in Defence Against the Dark Arts together, talking about Professor Wizzie's, er, strange methods of teaching." She laughed a little. Tenille smiled.

"Yes, I was a lot different back then. Very shy, and I definitely did _not_ like Professor Wizzie. Is she still here?" She asked. Leslie nodded.

"Yes, she and Professor Snape were a couple, but now they've gone and broken up and life has been absolutely _horrible_ for Gryffindors. Snape seems to have it in for my friends and I, ever since Wizzie left him." She smiled. "But no matter. How is Beaubaxtons? Are you enjoying France?"

"Yes, it's quite different, but I like it. My professors are great, well, except for Madame Maxime. She's a little odd. The school uniforms are a little different, but you know, it is nice to be able to start over at a new school. But I do miss you, Leslie." Tenille replied. Leslie sighed.

"I know, I miss you too, but I'm glad you're getting your fresh start."

"Yeah, oh, I want you to meet my friends from school," Tenille motioned over a couple of girls with fancy dresses. "This is Genevieve and this is Christine." The two french girls smiled at Leslie.

"Ceci est Leslie, la fille je vous ai dit de." Tenille said to her two friends. Leslie puckered her brow.

"Ah oui, Leslie, le c'est bon vous rencontrer. Nous avons entendu tant de choses bonnes de vous!" Christine said, leaning forward to shake Leslie's hand.

"Oui, oui, Tenille est très heureux d'avoir un ami comme vous ici à Hogwarts. Elle parle de vous tout le temps, et que vous avez fait pour elle." Genevieve added. Leslie smiled, and cleared her throat, looking at Tenille.

"Er, sorry, but I don't speak french, so I have no idea what's going on here." She admitted. Tenille laughed.

"Sorry Leslie, I forgot I'm not in France anymore. I was just telling Genevieve and Christine who you are. They know all about you, I told them everything. They think it's really great what you did for me. They're just happy to meet you." Tenille explained. Leslie blushed a little as she looked back at Genevieve and Christine. She looked back at Tenille.

"I didn't do anything, Tenille." She said meekly. Tenille's eyes widened and she lowered her voice.

"Leslie, if it wasn't for you and your friends, you never would have gone out to the Shrieking Shack that night. Besides, you're the only other one who knows the truth about what happened." She paused. "Who knows what could have happened if you hadn't shown up at the Shack that night." Leslie sighed, but smiled.

"Well, I'm glad everything worked out, and I'm glad you're enjoying Beaubaxtons." She said. Tenille nodded.

"I am, very much." She looked beyond Leslie and noticed Harry standing by the food table, alone, and looking over at Leslie every few moments. Tenille smiled.

"I suppose I should let you get back to your date." She said with a grin. Leslie puckered her brow, and followed Tenille's gaze until she realized she had been pointing out Harry. Leslie looked back and laughed a little, shaking her head.

"Oh no, Harry's not my _date._ I mean, we're friends, we're just, well Ron and Hermione took off and-"

"Alright, well I hope you enjoy the dance, Leslie. I hope I'll see you again some time." Tenille interrupted with a smile. Leslie smiled back and engulfed her friend in another hug.

"We will, thanks for stopping by to say hello." She said.

"Thank _you_ for everything." With a final smile, Tenille turned back to Genevieve and Christine and followed them out to the dance floor. Smiling, Leslie turned and headed back to Harry, who was now listening to Neville while he explained the properties of a Mandrake.

* * *

An hour had passed, and Harry and Leslie found themselves sitting at a table to the side, eating squares and cookies while they listened to the music and talked to fellow students as they passed through. Leslie caught a glance of Ron a few minutes earlier who was in a mosh pit under the stage of the _Magical Misfits_, sweating and jumping up and down like it was Christmas or something. Leslie saw Hermione earlier, too. She had met a boy from Durmstrang, and hadn't left his side all evening. Leslie knew she would hear all about it later in the dormitory, so she let her have her fun.

Harry was always good company, and even though they weren't really dancing or mingling, Leslie was having a terrific time.

"I don't believe it!" Harry said suddenly, and Leslie, distracted, looked at Harry, who was pointing beyond Leslie's shoulder. Leslie, now curious, turned in her seat to see what Harry was seeing. Leslie's eyes widened, feeling the same surprise Harry felt.

Professor Snape was stalking over to where Professor Wizzie was sitting all alone, sulking and poking at her crepe. Leslie swallowed, turning back to Harry for a moment.

"Do you think they'll have a row, right in front of _everyone_?" Leslie asked, turning back to watch the scene.

"Dunno, but if they do, it's not going to be pretty." Harry replied.

Sure enough, Professor Snape walked right up to where Wizzie was sitting, and he tapped her gently, _gently_ on the shoulder.

Wizzie looked up, and though Harry and Leslie couldn't hear what they were saying, it didn't appear as though they were fighting.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

First, Wizzie smiled. _Smiled!_ Even Professor Snape had a smug look on his face, and Leslie nearly fell off her chair when Snape offered his hand, and Wizzie took it, allowing Snape to lead her out to the dance floor.

Gaping, Harry and Leslie watched in disbelief as Snape wrapped his arms around Wizzie's middle, and the two began to dance, Wizzie with the brightest smile spread across her face.

Leslie turned away and faced Harry, wondering if her face was as white as his.

"I think I'm going to vomit." She brushed a loose hair out of her face. "I mean, are they for _real?_"

"No, they've _got_ to be joking!" Harry replied.

"Honestly, _honestly!_ After everything we've _been_ through, after everything we've _done_ to get them back together, all it takes is a stupid dance to get them back together?" Leslie unconsciously felt her fingers burning, remembering all the times cleaning out Snape's collection of tainted vials. It wasn't fair!

Harry raised his arms up in the air and breathed out heavily.

"Whatever, I give up, as of now!" He exclaimed.

"Well, it isn't as though there was anything we could have done anyway." Leslie replied, defeated. "Clearly, they were just going to do it on their own, anyhow."

The two watched as Snape and Wizzie danced to the slower music, and Leslie could only shake her head in defeat. Well, she supposed it didn't matter if they couldn't do it themselves. At least Wizzie was smiling again, and maybe Snape's detentions would stop too. Maybe it was a victory after all.

"Er, Leslie?" Harry piped up, interrupting Leslie from her thoughts. Leslie turned and looked at Harry, who was fiddling with his fingers. Leslie smiled.

"Yes, Harry?" She asked, thinking they would continue on about the Snape and Wizzie fiasco, but Harry grew solemn and serious.

"I, er, well, I have a bit of a, well, you know, it's probably a stupid question, but erm, I was wondering if you, well, if you wanted to dance, with me." He stumbled on his words, and he had a hard time keeping her eye contact, but he was serious.

Leslie stared at him, and swallowed. She hadn't expected him to ask.

"R-really?" She asked, unconsciously touching her hair to see if it was still done up. What a stupid thing to do!

Harry nodded.

"I know, it's stupid, you don't have to, I just-"

"I'd love to."

Harry's cheeks turned pink, obviously not expecting Leslie to say yes, but he stumbled out of his chair, and came around to Leslie's side, offering his hand, just as Snape had done. Leslie, feeling her own cheeks reddening, gently took Harry's hand and stood up, following him out to the dance floor.

They found a small clearing and stopped, facing each other. It was obvious neither of them had ever done this before. Harry cleared his throat, as he extended his arm.

"I, uh, think this goes on your, your waist." Harry said quietly, hoping nobody would hear him. Leslie took a glance around at everyone else who was dancing as though it were the easiest thing in the world.

"Yes, I think you're right." Leslie replied, placing her own hands around Harry's neck. It was so strange, being this close to Harry. They had never danced before, it was strange, but not wrong.

Harry's hands were shaking on her waist, and she could feel her own shaking around his neck. Whizbees, why was it so scary? It felt...it felt okay.

They started moving in small circles, like everyone else was doing, and then it felt a little less awkward. At least they were doing it right.

"Leslie?" Harry said after a few seconds of spinning. Leslie looked at him, his face was really close.

"Yeah?" She asked. Harry paused, and then smiled.

"Hermione was right. You do look really pretty." He cleared his throat, looking at her hair. "And...I've never seen your hair down before." Leslie laughed a little.

"Yeah I know," she blushed. "It's different."

"I like it." Harry said, without hesitation.

Leslie smiled and continued to dance with Harry, as the music filled the room. She would have to thank Crims later; this was turning out to be one of the best nights of her life.

* * *

When the song was over, Leslie and Harry went back to their table to find Ron, sulking.

"What's your problem?" Harry asked as he and Leslie lowered themselves into their own seats. Ron grumbled.

"What was that?" Leslie asked, rolling her eyes to herself. Ron was _such_ a complainer; maybe Hermione had a point, after all.

"The _Magical Misfits_ saved all their decent songs for the beginning, now all they've got left are their sodding boring songs." Ron pouted. Leslie and Harry shared a glance and stifled a giggle. Ron could be so over-dramatic at times.

"Hello Leslie, Harry, Ron!" Leslie turned to see a bright and cheery Professor Wizzie joining them. "Why the long face, Weasley?" Ron seemed to brighten just a little, which nearly had Leslie falling to the ground in stitches. She and Hermione had always speculated whether or not Ron fancied Professor Wizzie a bit, and judging by the color of his ears, a bright pink, Leslie gathered she and Hermione had been right.

"Nothing, Professor, just taking a bit of a breather, you know, all that dancing." Ron said with an awkward laugh. Leslie caught Harry rolling his eyes.

"Dancing? Oh balderdash, you call all that dancing? Blimey, you kids today don't know how to _dance._ At least not the way we did back in _my_ day!" Leslie nearly laughed at this new and improved Professor Wizzie. Well, not new, she had always been like this, but not since she and Snape split. Leslie guessed they must be back together again, which she was grateful for - she didn't know how much more of the miserable Wizzie she could stand.

"Now then, I'll teach you a dance that I invented, and let me tell you, it was quite popular back in my day at Hogwarts. Why when I went to _my_ Mistleball, they even named this dance after me." Wizzie got into position. "It's called the _Daisy Shuffle._"

Harry, Leslie and Ron watched curiously as the music shifted from a slow song to an upbeat one and Wizzie became a whole new person! She began dancing the most complicated steps Leslie had ever seen! Fast, on beat, and energetic. Wizzie was smiling the whole time, and laughing! Leslie, Harry and Ron couldn't help it, soon they were laughing too. Leslie could hardly keep her eyes on Wizzie's feet, they were moving so fast!

"Phew!" Wizzie gasped when she was done. "Now then, have at it! You're turn." Wizzie waited, but Harry, Ron and Leslie only glanced nervously at one another as they waited for somebody to start. Nobody could.

"Oh come on, it's not _that_ hard. Look, I'll show you."

And so for the next hour or so, Professor Wizzie taught them the _Daisy Shuffle_, and a small crowd had gathered around, all learning this new dance. Leslie was in stitches the whole time, struggling to keep up, and she laughed out loud when Harry tripped over his own two feet and fell face first. Luckily, Ron caught him by the arm and hoisted him up. Embarrassed, Harry took it down a notch.

By the end of the hour, after much giggling and mistakes and falling down, a new song started up, and all the newly taught students stood in a line and performed the _Daisy Shuffle._ Everyone was giggling, and trying to keep up with the music, shuffling sideways, forwards, backwards, and sideways again. Leslie felt beads of sweat on her forehead, but it didn't matter, she was having so much _fun!_

"Well _done_ everyone! I wasn't sure if you had it in you, but, once again, you've all exceeded my expectations!" Wizzie said cheerily with a wide smile. Then the crowd erupted in applause for their teacher and a fun time. Leslie was grinning from ear to ear as she clapped hard. She couldn't believe how much fun she was having at the Mistleball - she was sad it was nearly over. She thought about what she would have been doing had she decided not to listen to Professor Crims, and instead, stay in her room all night. She would have missed all this.

And these were memories that would last her a lifetime.

* * *

It was midnight - the dance was over.

Students were slowly making their way out of the Great Hall to go to their dormitories. Leslie and Harry were still listening to Professor Wizzie's memories from her days at Hogwarts. Leslie could feel her eyelids growing heavy.

"Oh dear, would you look at the time?" Wizzie finally said. "I'm going to turn into a pumpkin if I don't myself to bed." She said goodbye to the children and left. Leslie yawned.

"My, my, somebody needs to find her bed, and fast." A voice said. Leslie turned and realized they had been joined by Professor Crims. Leslie smiled.

"Did you have a good time?" Crims asked Leslie and Harry. Both nodded wholeheartedly.

"Yeah, it was great, I didn't think it would be, but it was a good time." Harry replied. Leslie simply nodded. Whizbees, she was exhausted. Crims smiled and laughed a little.

"Well, I'm glad." She said, nearly interrupted when a bright-faced Hermione came running up.

"Leslie, come on, we should really get back to the dormitory!" She exclaimed quickly, and nearly out of breath. "We've got to get ready!" Leslie was confused. Ready for what? Bed? Leslie yawned again.

"Ready for what, Hermione?" She asked. Hermione giggled a little.

"Oh Leslie, have you had so much fun tonight, you've forgotten all about tomorrow? We're going _home_ tomorrow! We have to get back to the dormitory and pack!" She exclaimed with a smile.

Leslie's stomach dropped.

She had forgotten all about it.

Christmas vacation started the next day. They were scheduled to go home to the Granger's.

Leslie felt tears stinging her eyes, but she blinked them away as she cleared her throat. She bit her lip to keep herself from forming more tears. Hermione was busy talking to Harry now, and Leslie looked up to see Professor Crims looking at her with sad eyes. She understood right away. Leslie didn't have to say anything.

Leslie forced a smile for Harry, who was looking at her curiously, and she followed Hermione, Ron and Harry as they left the Great Hall, and as she left, she felt a warm hand fall on her shoulder. Leslie turned slightly and saw Professor Crims giving her a reassuring wink.

It didn't make a different - Leslie was less than reassured.

* * *

"Goodnight boys!" Hermione shouted as she ran up the girl's side to the dormitories. Leslie simply waved to the boys as she trudged after Hermione up the stairs to her room.

Hermione was already twirling around the room, pulling out her pinned up hair and yanking out a suitcase from under her bed. Sighing, Leslie unfastened the clip in her hair, and let her hair fall loose on her shoulders. Hermione was humming a distant tune.

"Did you see me with that boy, Leslie?" She asked suddenly. Leslie recalled the Durmstrang boy who clung to Hermione like a leech all night. She nodded.

"His name is Viktor Krum, and he's a _seventh_ year! Can you believe that? Three years older! I really can't believe it, I feel so, _exhilarated!_ He's so brilliant. He's also the Seeker for the Bulgarian Quidditch team, and I don't mean _school_ Quidditch, I mean International Quidditch! He's apparently famous, I'm sure Ron will know all about him, I'll have to be sure and ask." Hermione kicked off her shoes and began throwing clothes in her trunk. "We exchanged our names and addresses so we could write to each other, you know, stay in touch. Oh, but _please_ don't tell mum, she'd have a hissy fit! You know how mums can get."

Leslie bit her lip to keep from crying. _No, Hermione, I don't know how mums can get. In case you've forgotten, I haven't got one of those._ Leslie unzipped her dress and changed into her pajamas, kicking off her own shoes. Hanging her dress up neatly, she crawled into bed.

"Leslie, what are you doing, you still haven't packed." Hermione pointed out. Leslie sighed, staring at the wall opposite of where Hermione was still packing.

"I'm really tired, Hermione, I'll pack in the morning." Leslie said quietly.

Hermione didn't say anything, she simply continued opening drawers, and packing while humming happily to herself. Leslie envied Hermione's happiness. She had a great night, and at the end of it, life was still fantastic, because her life was whole.

Then there was Leslie. She, too, had a terrific night, but at the end of it, she still had to face the haunting truth that she was an orphan, and would never have a mother have a hissy fit over a boy.


	22. Whirlwind

Vivid nightmares haunted Leslie's sleep that Mistleball night.

She was in the Great Hall, dressed in her beautiful gown, hair up and makeup done, just like she had for the Mistleball, only the hall looked completely different. Instead of white snow, it was black, and instead of ice, it was hot lava. Leslie was terrified as she stalked through the hall, searching for signs of somebody, _anybody_, but the hall was dead, she was the only sign of life. She shouted as loud as she could for somebody, but she couldn't see anybody. The hot lava bubbled and the black snow seemed to double, triple in quantity, and it became harder and harder for Leslie to navigate her way through. She felt lonely, afraid and hopeless when she saw up ahead, a glass wall. Thankful for something different, she ran to it, tripping on her heels as she ran forth to look through the glass. Her stomach sank, for there in front of her, through the glass, were all her schoolmates - there was Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Padma and Parvati, even Harry, but they weren't alone. Each of them stood with a woman - their mother. Ron and Ginny laughed while Mrs. Weasley told them humorous stories about their childhood, Neville hugged his mother, Harry stood next to a transparent woman Leslie guessed was his own mother and Hermione stood still while her mother brushed through her hair. They were all perfect matches, all happy, all smiling, and Leslie was on the other side of the glass, unable to break through. She was alone, on the wrong side of the glass, surrounded by heaping black snow and wild lava.

Then she was in a crib in a small nursery, and the nursery burst into flames. Leslie began to scream, and her screams sounded like a baby crying, and she shook the railings of the crib, desperate to escape. The door to her nursery was ajar, and through the flames, she saw her mother passing by, but no matter how hard Leslie screamed, her mother just walked away.

Then she was in a graveyard. It was dark, there was fog everywhere, and it was cold. Someone was screaming, but she couldn't see who it was, but there was something oddly familiar about that scream, and she wanted to get to it, but she was being held back by something, some hands, but no matter how much she struggled against them, she couldn't pull away, and worse, she couldn't see the face of her attacker.

* * *

Leslie woke with a start the next morning, and slowly breathed out when she realized she had just been dreaming. _Whizbees..._

She hopped out of bed and realized Hermione was already up, folding up some last minute clothes and packing up her suitcase. Leslie breathed out, realizing what day it was. Now, all she wanted was to fall back asleep - even the nightmares would be better than this.

But Hermione had already seen Leslie getting up, she couldn't go back to sleep. Instead, Leslie got herself dressed and walked over to the mirror, where she stared at herself for a good long time, especially her hair. She considered it for a moment before she remembered what had happened the previous night.

"_Leslie?" Harry had said during their dance. Leslie looked at him, his face was really close._

"_Yeah?" She asked. Harry paused, and then smiled._

"_Hermione was right. You do look really pretty." He cleared his throat, looking at her hair. "And...I've never seen your hair down before." Leslie laughed a little._

"_Yeah I know," she blushed. "It's different." _

"_I like it." Harry said, without hesitation. _

Now, Leslie stared at her reflection, and her hair that rested down around her shoulders. She tilted her head softly, and thought for a moment about pigtails, the same pigtails she had put in her hair for years and years. No, today, today she would do something differently.

She kept her hair down, instead finding an old headband of hers and putting it on, leaving her hair down. She smiled at her reflection. Yes, it was different, but, well, sometimes, change was needed.

"Leslie?" Hermione puckered her brow as she took in Leslie's new look. "No pigtails?" Leslie smiled to herself. It was a change, but as she looked in the mirror, she was convinced she had put the pigtails to rest.

"No." Leslie stole one final glance at her hair pulled back with a headband, yet still brushing down on her shoulders. "I think I may have outgrown them."

She turned away and began to put on her socks, as Hermione returned to her packing.

"Well, your hair looks nice that way." She said with a smile, as she closed up her suitcase. "Perhaps you should start packing, Leslie. Why haven't you started?"

Leslie froze in the middle of pulling up her second sock. The fact was, she had been thinking on this all night long, trying to figure out what to do about it, and had come to a decision early into the morning, before the nightmares had started. Hermione was _not_ going to like it.

"Um, Hermione?" Leslie started, not turning to face her friend. "I'm, er, well, I'm not going home with you."

She waited, and the silence that followed killed her inside. She knew Hermione was no doubt watching her in shock and surprise. How could she have expected that? Leslie had given her no warning whatsoever.

Hermione didn't say anything, she just walked up to Leslie and made her look at her. Leslie had no choice but to face her friend. Hermione stared at her with the slightest touch of anger in her eyes.

"Why not?" She asked in a low voice. Leslie sighed to herself, she knew Hermione was no doubt hurt and confused, and Leslie hated to do this.

"It's because of my mum and dad, isn't it?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't deny it this time, Leslie, you've been avoiding them all term! Ignoring their letters, running away at your birthday party, I'm not _stupid_ Leslie, I see you have some sort of conflict with them, but I don't understand any of it because you don't tell me. _Now_, you don't want to come home for Christmas, as you've done nearly_ every_ year! So, why are you avoiding them so much? What have they done to hurt you?"

Leslie shook her head, feeling tears threatening to escape, but she managed to suppress them.

"Hermione, it's not like that. _They_ haven't hurt me, it's just...look, I can't explain it. I just...I just can't be with them right now. I'm sorry, Hermione, I wish I could explain it to you, but I just can't right now." Leslie breathed out, wanting nothing more than this confrontation to be over. She _hated_ seeing that look of hurt in her best friend's eye. Maybe changing the subject would help. "Besides, it'd be good to spend Christmas with my grandmother this year, you know, I hardly see her throughout the term, and at least Harry and Ron will be here. I won't be alone." The truth was, though, she knew she wouldn't see her grandmother much at all over the holidays - McGonagall was going to be busy marking exams and getting preparations done for the next term. Harry and Ron were spending their Christmas at the castle because the rest of the Weasley clan were planning a trip to Egypt over the Christmas holidays. Leslie would rather be with the boys than having to deal with two weeks of staying with the Grangers.

Hermione stared at Leslie for a moment, and soon, the look of anger disappeared, but she still looked hurt, but she managed a small smile and a nod.

"Alright, if that's what you want to do, Leslie, I...well, I suppose I understand. I mean, I haven't a right clue what you're going through, but I trust you. You're my best friend, so you've got to have a decent reason. I'll miss you." Hermione enveloped Leslie in a hug and squeezed tightly. Leslie shut her eyes tight, forcing the tears back. No, she would not cry, not right here, not right now.

Hermione went to put on her coat, scarf, hat and mitts and grabbed her suitcase. The carriages were waiting outside to begin shuttling students down to the Hogsmeade train station.

"Bye Leslie...Happy Christmas." Hermione said slowly as she left the dormitory. Leslie watched after her best friend as she walked away, leaving her at the castle for two weeks without her best friend. It wasn't Hermione's fault - it was Leslie's decision to stay cooped up in the castle. If she could have a Christmas with Hermione, Ron and Harry, just the four of them, she would be so content for the holidays, but that wouldn't happen. Hermione wouldn't pass up the chance to spend Christmas with her family, and Leslie couldn't blame her for that. She was lucky, at least, that Ron's family was going to Egypt, cooping up the boys at the castle so Leslie wouldn't be alone. But without Hermione, Christmas sure wouldn't be the same.

Tears fell down Leslie's cheeks as she considered the unfairness of the whole situation. Everyone was leaving for Christmas vacation, to spend two whole weeks with their families, their _mums._ Leslie was an outcast, an outsider. She was an orphan - she didn't have a mum. She wouldn't be able to wake up Christmas morning and have a mother greet her excitedly and shower her with gifts. She would never have that luxury, not like other girls her age.

Leslie lowered herself to sit on her bed as the tears continued down her pale cheeks. She was going to miss her best friend, but she had to do it this way. It was the only thing that made sense in the sea of confusion that was her life.

* * *

Leslie laid in bed for two solid hours, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the tears to stop. She could hardly believe Hermione was gone, no doubt already on the train back to Hogsmeade, sitting all alone in a compartment, or maybe with Neville or the twin Patil girls, but still, Leslie knew Hermione was no doubt missing Leslie just as much as Leslie was missing her.

Feeling rather sorry for herself, but determined not to spend her entire day lying in bed with tears in her eyes, she pulled herself out of bed and went down to the common room, where she found Harry and Ron playing a game of wizard's chess. She was so quiet, coming down the stairs, the boys hadn't even noticed her until she appeared beside their table, eyeing the chess pieces, feigning interest.

"Who's winning?" She asked, and both boys nearly jumped out of their skin when they looked up and saw Leslie staring at them both, wide-eyed.

"Whizbees, what're you so scared of?" She asked, breathing out, for she had flinched herself.

"Bloody hell, Leslie, what in the sodding heck are you doing here _anyway?_" Ron asked, trying to catch his breath, and steady his chess pieces. Puckering her brow, Leslie turned to Harry.

"Yeah, the carriages left two hours ago. Why aren't you with Hermione?" Harry asked. Oh, Leslie realized, the boys would have still been fast asleep when the carriages arrived this morning. She had, after all, made her decision sometime in the middle of the night. Harry and Ron had no idea she was staying at the castle.

Leslie pulled up an armchair, folding her arms up on the table and leaning her chin on them.

"Yeah, I know. I sorta, well, I decided I'd stay here for Christmas." She said quietly. Ron stared at her, puckering his brow, clearly confused, but one glance at Harry told Leslie he understood why she did it. She had hardly needed to tell him anything, he had known where she stood since her birthday back in August. He simply gave her a supporting nod, while offering a small smile. Leslie smiled back, while Ron merely shrugged.

"Well alright mate, I suppose we could squeeze you into our many Christmas plans." He said with a bit of a laugh, arranging his chess pieces once again. Leslie rolled her eyes, but smiled at him.

"Gee, thanks Ron." She playfully smacked him and looked back at Harry, only to catch him looking at her hair. He looked away and began fiddling with his chess pieces. Leslie smiled to herself, glad one of them had noticed her change in hairstyle. For the moment, even though Hermione was gone, and Christmas would be very different this year, Leslie felt happy. At least she had Ron and Harry.

* * *

The days went by quickly, as Leslie spent her time learning how to play wizard's chess with the boys, becoming quite talented at it, even beating _Ron_ a few times, much to his disliking. He had, after all, been the Gryffindor champion for three years now. He had pouted quite openly about his one loss for a few hours before he chalked it up to beginner's luck.

The rest of the time had been spent outside, playing Quidditch in the empty Quidditch pitch. Both Leslie and Harry were excited about the advantage they now held over other players and other teams. Nobody else seemed to be practicing during their Christmas vacation. When Quidditch started up again, Gryffindor would no doubt be the champions. Angelina would _have_ to be nothing but impressed at their progress. Leslie doubted it, though, she was a _hard_ captain, perhaps even moreso than Wood himself.

Leslie had had to construct a lie for Professor McGonagall regarding her sudden decision to remain at the castle for the holidays. McGonagall was gravely curious about her sudden interest to pass up an opportunity to stay with the Grangers. Leslie had only told her she felt sorry that she hadn't spent a Christmas with Ron or Harry since her first year, and she wanted a change. McGonagall had left it at that, which Leslie was secretly thankful for. She was also grateful the Grangers or Hermione hadn't written McGonagall about the lack of Leslie at their home.

Leslie came back from lunch on Christmas Eve to find a small envelope lying on her bed, clearly left there by an owl who had been too lazy to find her personally. Sighing, Leslie ripped open the envelope to find a handwritten letter from Hermione. Feeling her stomach drop, she read the letter.

_Leslie,_

_I do hope you're well. I am home now, and having a wonderful time. Mum has been doing a fair amount of baking, and I'm surprised she's letting me at all these sweets, they can't be good for my teeth, you know._

_Dad's working on plans to build a swimming pool in our backyard. Just think of it, Leslie, a swimming pool! Of course, it won't be done until July or August, but it's still a lovely thought, isn't it?_

_Our bedroom seems so empty without you there. It's hard not to have you to talk to every night before I go to sleep. Mum and dad are great, but there are some things only best friends can share. Like Viktor. Who've I got to talk to about _Viktor?_ You haven't told Ron about him, have you? You know how he is. Boys._

_Mum and dad were very disappointed to learn you weren't coming home for Christmas. You should have seen mum's face when I arrived in London, just me. She said it was alright, but she keeps telling me to write you and tell you that it's never too late. Really, Leslie, if you've changed your mind, you can still travel by Floo Powder and be here for Christmas. I do hope you'll change your mind, I miss you._

_Write back promptly with a response._

_Hermione_

Behind Hermione's note was a photograph, just a Muggle one, but it was a picture of Hermione with her mum and dad, with a small note attached that read, "We miss you."

Sighing, feeling tears prickling her eyes, she threw the picture and letter down on her bed, stomped up and grabbed a piece of parchment, feeling her throat constricting with emotion. It was too much, too difficult! She had been doing fine, since Hermione left! Distractions were helpful, Quidditch, wizard's chess, even homework, but this, this was too much.

Hands shaking, she dipped her quill in a bottle of ink and began to write furiously.

_Hermione,_

_No thank you, I will not be making it._

_Leslie_

She packaged it up quickly, ran downstairs to the common room where Hedwig was sitting by the window, minding her own business. Without even bothering to ask Harry, who was outside with Ron, she attached the envelope to Hedwig's leg and told her where to go. With Hedwig flying out the window with a squawk, Leslie watched her with tears running down her face, thinking of the picture, thinking of the Granger's, thinking about her own mother and father who were now dead, but had never cared anyway. It was too much!

Feeling a fire starting in her chest, Leslie looked around the room, desperate for something, _anything_, to get away, get away from her thoughts. She began breathing heavily as sobs choked her and she turned back to the window, staring out over the moor, down at the Black Lake, at the dark clouds. The snow was coming down hard, like a blizzard, but Leslie didn't care. She opened up the window, feeling the cold wind hit her face hard, drying her tears immediately. She stole a glance back in the common room, and when she found it was empty, she grabbed hold of the windowsill and hoisted herself up onto it, clinging to the sides as she stood in the windowsill, staring down. Feeling more tears on her face, more coming, and anger and pain inside of her, she pulled out her wand.

"_Accio Nimbus!_" She shouted at the top of her lungs and she waited, letting the cold surround her. All she was wearing were jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt. Her hands were already numb from the cold, but she didn't care. She needed to fly, she needed to go fast, she needed to forget, she needed to be alone, all alone, high above the world, away from it.

She breathed out when she saw her Nimbus flying through the storm clouds, making its way through the snow from its home in the broomstick shed down by the Quidditch pitch where she had last left it. It flew right toward her, and she grabbed it by its handle, holding it steady while she jumped on, and sped off at lightning speed, right into the storm.

Leslie couldn't see where she was going, the blizzard was far too thick, the storm clouds too dark. She was right into the thick of it, but in that moment, she couldn't care less, she didn't even care if she ran into anything. Up here, nobody would hear her sobs, _she_ couldn't even hear them. In fact, she began to scream at the top of her lungs.

"It isn't _fair!"_ She shrieked into the storm. "It _isn't fair!"_

Her ears were numbing from the cold, the tip of her broomstick became ice, her fingers raw red. Her lips were chattering, but she clung to her broomstick, forcing herself forward faster and faster, until she couldn't go any faster. She swerved through the clouds, pivoted through the snow when she made it through and was able to make out where she was.

She was high above the castle, higher than she had ever been before, even during Quidditch matches. It all looked so small beneath her, and as Leslie breathed heavily, trying to catch her breath, seeing her breath becoming mist in front of her, she began to cry again. She was shivering, and even after the rush of flying that fast through the coldest temperatures, even _that_ hadn't distracted her, for in her mind's eye, all she could see was the picture of Hermione and the Granger's, the constant reminder that Leslie was alone at Christmas, alone in life.

Feeling weakened, abandoned and alone, she leaned down and began to dive on her broomstick toward the castle. She could hardly see through her tears, through the snow but she finally found a spot on the highest turret on the castle. Leslie, feeling frozen and emotionally drained, landed her broomstick on the roof of the castle, and shifted her way to the turret where she lowered herself onto its roof, and sat down, pulling her knees to her chest, hugging them tight. The tears would not stop, as she looked out at the blanket of snow that was blocking her view. The cold wind threw her hair wildly around, and she could feel her tears fly away from her face as they were formed. She daren't look at her fingers, she couldn't feel them, but she didn't care. Madame Pomfrey would fix them, no doubt, but right now, all she wanted was to be alone.

Why did Hermione have to write her? Why did she have to include a picture? Leslie was just beginning to enjoy herself, enjoy her holidays, now, she was once again reminded of why she had chosen to stay behind. It would never end. As long as she lived, this would haunt her. As long as she was surrounded by people who had families, who had mothers, this would haunt her. The injustice of the situation ate at her, made her want to do nothing but scream.

Instead, she simply buried her face into her knees and cried.

This was how it was meant to be.

There would never be a mother to hold her when she was scared or sad, as she was now.

There would never be a mother to cradle her when she shivered from the cold, as she did now.

There would never be a mother to dry her tears when she cried, as she did now.

She would have to accept it, move on.

But the tears kept on coming.

"Who's up there?"

Leslie lifted her head up and placed her hands on the turret, feeling her heart in her throat. Someone was opening the window below her, someone must have heard her up there. She swallowed, wishing she could grab her broomstick and fly away, but it was too late now. She would be seen by whoever it was. Leslie quickly lifted her hand to brush her tears away.

A blonde head emerged from the window, and then a hand with a wand held at the ready. She looked in both directions before she finally craned her neck and looked up, meeting Leslie, having to squint to see through the blizzard.

"Leslie?" She asked in a shocked voice. Leslie looked away, sniffling a little. She wouldn't get in trouble, not with Crims, but now, she wished she would leave. She needed to be alone.

"Leslie, darling, what in the _world_ are you doing on the roof?" Crims shouted over the loud wind. Leslie lowered her head back down on her arms, trying to hide the tears that were forming. She was beginning to feel tingling sensations in her fingers.

"Leslie, listen to me, I don't know what you're doing up there, but it's very dangerous." Crims said loudly. Leslie shook her head, looking down at her professor.

"I don't care!" She shouted back over the billowing wind. "I just - I just want to be left alone!"

Crims was silent for a moment as she considered Leslie, sitting up on that rooftop, all alone in nothing but a sweater, wind flying through her hair, tears running down her face. Crims tried to manage a smile.

"I understand that, Leslie, I really do, but trust me when I say you don't always have to be strong!" She yelled up. "I know it's hard, honey, but you don't have to be alone."

Leslie was silent, feeling more sobs erupting in her chest, her throat. She wanted to scream, she wanted to run, but she felt too weak now, too cold. She wouldn't dare try anything like that now.

"Leslie, please come down, you're worrying me." Crims said after a few moments. Leslie didn't know what else to do. Sitting atop a turret in the middle of winter in nothing but a hooded sweatshirt suddenly seemed like a very foolish idea.

But she didn't know if she wanted to face Crims, either. Face _anybody_. She had, after all, been very reckless, and done nothing but sobbed for the last ten minutes or so. She felt like a baby, and clung to her knees tightly, feeling her muscles tensing from the cold air.

"Listen to me, Leslie, can you hear me up there? I know you're sad, even angry right now, but you don't have to deal with any of that alone, especially out in the cold. Look, there's a small step to your left you can come down on. I'll help you, you can come right in through this window." Crims motioned to the side of the turret, as Leslie watched nervously. Their eyes locked then. "Please, Leslie."

Swallowing, Leslie considered Crims. Her eyes were pleading, and Leslie felt guilty for causing her to worry. There was a small part of her that wanted nothing more than to stay on the roof, but she felt too cold to do that anymore.

Leslie struggled to move. Her joints were stiff from the cold, but she forced herself to shift over to the left of the turret, seeing the small crevice in the castle that Crims had pointed out, just big enough for her to fit her foot in. Feeling as though every part of her were numb, she struggled to turn herself over, grabbing hold of the castle's old bricks, and lowering herself down over the side of the castle, feeling her heart hammering against her chest.

"That's it, Leslie, just don't think about where you are. Just ease yourself down gently." Crims' voice rang through the wind, calm and steady. Leslie did as she was told, finding her foot on the crevice and stepping down on the turret's windowsill. She immediately felt a hand take a hold of her ankle, and then the other.

"Okay Leslie, I've got you." Crims removed one of her hands and reached her hand up through the open window. "Take my hand."

Sniffling and shivering, Leslie shakily removed her hand from the turret and took Professor Crims' warm hand, which pulled her into the castle, helping her down off the windowsill gently and into the castle's top floor astronomy tower.

Leslie couldn't move, as Professor Crims closed the window. Her lips were quivering, her teeth chattering, her limbs shivering. Professor Crims came up behind her, took hold of her shoulders and spun her around to face her.

"Are you alright?" She asked in a straight-forward tone. Leslie bit her lip to keep from crying anymore, but managed a nod.

"Good, now maybe you can explain to me exactly what you were thinking, flying off into a blizzard storm like this in nothing but a _sweater!_" Crims exclaimed, not angry, but very concerned.

Leslie didn't answer, she simply looked away with a tear starting in the corner of her eye. Whizbees, she wanted nothing more than to run back to the common room and take a hot bath. She wanted to forget any of this ever happened. Crims, however, wasn't giving up that easily.

"I noticed you didn't go with Hermione for Christmas." Crims said all of a sudden. "And I know I don't even have to ask why."

Leslie swallowed, forcing herself not to cry. She still looked away. No, she didn't want to talk about it, not now, not when she was wet with snow and numb from the cold.

Crims put a hand on Leslie's shoulder.

"I know it's hard, Leslie-"

"Hard?" Leslie shouted, surprised at herself as she met her professor's eyes. "Yeah, it's _hard! _Especially when she sends me pictures of her wonderful family as a way of trying to get me to change my mind! Why in the bloody hell would I want to change my mind after being reminded of that? I don't _need_ to be reminded about things I don't have, and I _don't_ need to be reminded of the fact that I _never_ will!" Leslie was crying again now, and turned around to face the other wall, ashamed at her outburst, ashamed for letting herself go like that, but it was too much and none of it made sense to her. Why on earth had she decided to fly off in the middle of a snowstorm, just because she was upset? That wasn't like her - what was happening to her?

It wasn't fair!

Crims came up behind her and turned her around to face her again, taking Leslie's chin with her finger and lifting it up so she had no choice but to meet her eyes.

"Leslie, I know it's hard for you, and I don't blame you one bit. I can't imagine what bit what you must be feeling, what you're going through, but I do know you don't have to go through any of it alone. My dear, you are a very special young lady, and it hurts me to see you hurting so. And you know," Crims smiled. "I think you've got it all wrong. Oh Leslie, just because your parents are gone, it doesn't mean you can't have a family. Family doesn't have to be about blood, you know? Why, mothers and fathers come in all sorts of different forms."

Leslie shook her head, angry and upset.

"It's not the same thing!" She snapped. Crims shook her head, empathetically.

"No, you're right, it can never be the same thing, but it is what you make it." She smiled. "Home and family, well Leslie, they're where your heart is."

Leslie bit her lip to keep from crying as she turned her head away, rubbing her sleeve across her eyes to dry the tears. She shivered as she clung to her arms, still feeling the cold numbing her arms and legs. Crims breathed out.

"Listen to me, going on and you're standing there like an icicle." She took a hold of Leslie's frigid hand. "Come on down to my quarters and I'll make you a nice warm cup of cocoa."

* * *

Leslie went to bed that evening feeling much better and slightly more comforted. Crims had been very supportive and helpful. She had used the summoning charm to retrieve Leslie's broomstick from the roof of the castle and brought her down to her quarters where she lit up her fireplace and draped a thick purple comforter over Leslie while she made the hot chocolate. Crims had seemed to sense Leslie's disinterest in talking about anything related to Hermione or Christmas or families or mothers and fathers, so instead, upon handing Leslie her steaming cup of hot cocoa, Crims asked her simply, "Leslie, tell me what the best day of your life was."

Leslie had to think long and hard about that one, for she had so many. She thought about the first time she had ever seen Hogwarts, the same day she had met Harry, Ron and Hermione. She thought about the day she discovered her grandmother was McGonagall, right under her nose the entire year. She thought about the first time she had seen her report card with straight A's in every subject. She thought about the first time she had ever flown a broomstick, with Harry right in front of her, protecting her. She thought about making the Quidditch team. She thought about their trip to Maliguti's Magical Amusement Park before their third year began. Yes, those were all wonderful days, beautiful memories that Leslie would never forget.

But then she remembered the Mistleball. She remembered what it had felt like when she looked into the mirror after Professor Crims had finished, and she had seen someone who looked so different than Leslie Perks, and yet, the same. She remembered what it felt like to walk down those stairs with no confidence whatsoever, only to see Harry turn around and see her, really see her. His smile, his surprise. She remembered what it felt like to dance for the first time with her best friend, she remembered what it felt like when he said he liked her hair down like that. Leslie smiled, just thinking about it. Yes, _that_ had been the best day of her life so far.

"Well Leslie?" Crims had asked. Leslie only shrugged.

"I dunno," she replied, smiling to herself a little. "I suppose it was when I first flew a broomstick."


	23. Christmas

Leslie woke up Christmas morning feeling rested and happy. Crims had done a fine job at cheering her up, as they had laughed over silly memories, both Leslie's and Crims'. Crims had even shown her old photos of her when she was a student at Hogwarts. Now, Leslie woke up, ready for Christmas, and excited to meet Ron and Harry down by the Christmas tree. No doubt, they were already up.

Running down the stairs, she was happy to forget about the Grangers waking up and having Christmas morning without her in London. She wouldn't think of them, not today. Crims had made her promise to enjoy Christmas, because it only came once a year. Leslie knew she wouldn't be able to forget about them, not 100%, but for just one day, she wanted to have fun with her friends, she wanted to enjoy herself without bursting out into tears, or flying out in a snowstorm, which she had also promised to never do again.

"Happy Christmas, Leslie!" Both Harry and Ron shouted when Leslie came tumbling down the stairs from the girl's dormitory to find the boys sitting around the Christmas tree in eager anticipation, watching her fly down the stairs.

"Happy Christmas, guys!" She exclaimed, glad to join them at the tree. She had been secretly grateful for their long day on the Quidditch pitch the previous day, because they had never known about her flying through the storm clouds, nearly freezing to death on the castle's turret, or spending the rest of her afternoon in Crims' quarters. They had never known, and Leslie didn't think she would ever tell them. She was quite embarrassed by her recklessness.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's open our presents!" Ron shouted, and he dove right in.

Ron's first present was from Harry, it was a poster of the Chudley Cannons, his favourite Quidditch team, and Ron ran upstairs before even getting to the rest of his gifts to plaster it to the wall next to his bed. He even had the nerve to make Leslie and Harry wait to open anything until he got back.

Ron gave each of them their gifts next. Leslie opened up hers to find a package of Licorice Wands, while Harry got a decent supply of Ice Mice. They thanked Ron greatly, for they both knew he didn't have a lot of gold to be spending on Christmas presents, and they were grateful he still thought of them.

"Open mine, Harry!" Leslie exclaimed, passing Harry his gift. He tore it open to find a Honeydukes gift basket filled to the brim of sweets and snacks. Harry had to restrain himself by putting it aside and promising to have a touch of breakfast before breaking in.

They continued opening their presents in a Christmas morning frenzy. They all received presents from Hermione, which appeared under the tree this morning thanks to a charm she knew. Ron opened up his to find an _Excito_ Clock, a special alarm clock charmed to beep louder and louder under you finally woke up. Ron seemed less than thrilled and Harry seemed even more unimpressed. Harry got a book from Hermione entitled _Logistics to Wizard's Chess_, and Leslie received a box of new headbands, which Leslie was grateful for, considering she only had one, and hadn't worn her hair in pigtails since the Mistleball.

Ron received wizarding trading cards from Leslie, a sweater from his mum, and rock cakes from Hagrid (but they all got those, and decided they would later throw them in the Black Lake to see whose would break through the ice first).

Harry immediately threw the dirty sock he received from the Dursley's in the garbage, but kept the sweater Mrs. Weasley had made him with a Golden Snitch stitched into it and placed his rock cakes next to Ron's and Leslie's for later.

Leslie also received a sweater from Mrs. Weasley, only hers had a Quaffle on it. She nearly laughed out loud when she opened Harry's present to find a high quality Do-It-Yourself Potions Kit, to which he blushed.

"Well, I bought it so you could learn how to brew the antidote for the _Igneus _Potion, so we wouldn't have to worry about blisters anymore with Snape's detentions, but I suppose it's pointless now, since Snape and Wizzie are back together." He said. Leslie shook her head.

"That may be true, but this _is_ Snape we're talking about. I wouldn't put anything past him so I'll keep it handy, and I'll look up the antidote." She laughed.

She was surprised to find a gift from Professor Crims under the tree and she opened it up to find a framed photograph of herself coming down the stairs into the Great Hall foyer, dressed up and ready for the Mistleball. Attached was a note that read, "A natural beauty." Leslie smiled to herself while the boys opened up their Bertie Botts packages that Crims had sent for them.

Ron continued digging under the tree before he realized there were two rather large parcels behind the tree, leaning up against the wall.

"Bloody hell, how did I miss _these?_" He asked, yanking them out and pulling them out onto the floor. They looked identical in size, only in different wrappings. One was addressed to Leslie, the other to Harry. Ron pouted, realizing there were no more presents under the tree for him.

"S'alright Ron, you can have my rock cakes if you want." Leslie offered, but Ron only shot her a glare that made her giggle.

"Who's yours from, Leslie?" Harry asked as they stared at their big packages, expecting they would be close to the same thing, as they were the same shape and size.

"It's from my grandmother. Who's yours from, then? I presume _not_ from my grandmother." That would be strange.

"No, it's from Sirius." Harry replied, and without another second, the two began ripping off the paper. Once Leslie realized what she was opening, she shrieked with glee.

It was a Firebolt! The newest and fastest broom on the market, and she looked over to realize Harry had gotten the same broomstick!

Leslie stood up and held it up to take a better look at it, her eyes lit up and wide. Ron was reading Leslie's card.

"McGonagall wrote that she figured it was time for your old broomstick to retire, since you ride it so much." He read. Leslie smiled to herself, thinking just how true that was, after all, it _had_ just survived a snowstorm.

"Wow, I can't believe Sirius did this, I mean, just _think_ how fast we'll be able to fly with these!" Harry exclaimed.

"Hey, you shouldn't complain, mate, because at least _you've_ got a broomstick." Ron moped. Harry smiled at him.

"So have you, mate." He replied. "You can have my Nimbus."

Ron leaped up excitedly and thanked Harry a hundred times, jumping around the common room and whooping loudly. Leslie and Harry laughed as they had no choice but to join him, dancing around happily, holding their broomsticks up and giggling about nothing. Yes, it was a great Christmas.

Later, Leslie ran up to her dormitory to bring up all her Christmas presents, only to find a small parcel sitting on her bed. She puckered her brow. That was odd, it must have been delivered by owl, but why hadn't it been delivered to the tree? Oh well, Leslie thought, it was probably a defective owl.

She dropped all her things, and sat down on her bed, picking up the small parcel, reading the tag.

Her stomach dropped.

It was from the Granger's.

Feeling that familiar feeling in her stomach, she had no choice but to open it up.

There was a card, but she threw it aside, not wanting to read it. When she opened up the package, she found a gold necklace with some kind of symbol as its charm. Leslie thought it was Japanese, but she didn't know what it meant. She sighed, holding the necklace in her hand, wishing they hadn't gotten her anything.

Leslie wanted nothing more than to hide the necklace somewhere, forget about it, but she knew what Hermione would do if she found out. Leslie had no choice. If she wanted Hermione to continue to distance herself from asking about what was going on with Leslie, she would have to wear the necklace. Otherwise, Hermione would just ask questions.

She unclasped the necklace and put it on, feeling a sense of guilt by wearing it. Leslie had ignored the Granger's all year, not responded to their letters, refused to go home for Christmas, and they still sent her a present. Leslie felt like a downright git.

Yes, she had promised Crims she would try and have a happy Christmas, but as she fingered the necklace between her fingers, she greatly missed Hermione, and couldn't wait for the holidays to come to an end.


	24. A Warning From Sirius

Christmas was finally over, and with it came the usual rush and busyness of getting back into the swing of schoolwork, getting caught up on all the homework most students slacked off on over the holidays. Not Leslie - at least she was caught up, and Hermione, well, she was good for the next month!

Leslie was glad to have Hermione back, and Leslie was grateful she didn't have to endure too much talk about Hermione's Christmas vacation. She thanked Leslie for the Christmas present (a book, of course, _Magical Map-Making_. Hermione had become greatly interested in the Marauder's Map) and then went into talking about the upcoming assignments, and if Leslie had any difficulty with the History of Magic essay that was coming due.

Now two weeks into the month of January, Leslie was thankful to have everything back to normal. At least for the next six months, she wouldn't have to worry about the summer - she would cross that bridge when she arrived at it.

The strangest thing about being back after Christmas vacation was how different things were - especially with Wizzie and Snape.

For starters, none of the four had had a single detention with Snape since holidays ended two weeks ago.

"It's a shame, really. Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying all the extra time we have now, but I've got this Potions Kit that's going to do nothing but collect dust now." Leslie complained one evening while they sat around a table, doing homework.

"Well Leslie, there's no need to let it go to waste. You could do some extra practicing on the potions we make in Potions class to get ahead a little." Hermione had suggested, but Leslie quickly nixed that idea. Any reminder of Potions class was not something she wanted to be spending her free time on. The kit collected dust under her bed, and Harry wasn't in the least bit offended.

"Save it - he might have another anger management problem." He said.

"Doesn't he always?"

There wasn't a lot of time to fit in Quidditch practices because the snow had gone from bad to worse, piling up by the feet. Thankfully, Hagrid had most of it under control, but he soon discovered that magically moving the snow from the sidewalks into the Dark Forest only made the Centaurs upset. Dumbledore wanted peace, so Hagrid had to clear the sidewalks the old-fashioned way - with a shovel.

Leslie was beginning to feel rather cooped up, especially without Quidditch. She and Harry had new broomsticks, and they couldn't even _fly_ them.

It didn't help their spirits to have the Daily Prophet report more escapes from Azkaban daily, alleged Deatheaters even. Harry forced Leslie to check the map five times a day now, you could never be so sure, especially now. Harry had been right paranoid really, ever since the day in Hogsmeade when the Deatheaters nearly took her away. Leslie thought she should be flattered, but she was just as frightened as he was. Lucius Malfoy himself was a Deatheater, and his own son attended Hogwarts. That meant the Deatheaters could have a way in, if they meant to. Why they hadn't infiltrated Hogwarts yet, well, it didn't make sense to Leslie, but she was grateful they had more time to figure things out, anyway.

It was now the second Wednesday of January, and Leslie and her friends were sitting by the fire, reading through the Daily Prophet. Leslie tried to do a good job masking her growing fear as Hermione read off the new names of escapees from Azkaban. Something had to be going down, it _had_ to be. It made no sense. Azkaban was heavily guarded - how could people just be getting out so easily? It made her sick to think about.

She realized she must not be doing such a great job at hiding her fear, because Ron looked over just then.

"Don't worry, mate, I mean, if they were going to come after you in Hogwarts, we would have seen something by now, on the map, I mean." He explained. Leslie sighed; if _Ron_, who had the emotional range of a pea, could figure out she was nervous, she obviously wasn't good at pretending.

She simply smiled with a nod, ignoring the concerned looks of Hermione and Harry. When would this ever be over?

Just then, Hedwig flew into the room, barging through the window and landing on Harry's shoulder, presenting her foot with a letter attached.

"Ah, thank you, Hedwig. I've left you a mouse in your cage upstairs, you'd best get to it before Crookshanks and Jinxie do." Harry said, as he took the letter. Leslie rolled her eyes.

"Harry, _my_ cat doesn't eat mice. They turn her stomach. She's more fond of...spiders, oddly enough." She explained, as Ron outwardly shuddered. He was afraid of spiders, and Leslie couldn't understand that. With so many dark things in the world, Voldemort being one of them, how could one possibly be afraid of _spiders_?

"It's from Sirius!" Harry announced, as the other three crowded around while he read.

_To Harry and friends_,

_It is urgent we meet. Meet me in the usual secret tunnel as soon as you get this letter, and be sure to make sure you aren't being followed, and be sure to all come together._

_Sirius_

"Is it just me, or does he sound paranoid too?" Ron asked.

"Well, I guess we'd best get down there. Leslie, the map?" Harry said, and Leslie nodded, dashing up the stairs to her dormitory to grab the map. She brought it down, already having opened it up. Harry already had his wand ready.

"_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."_ Harry said and the map revealed all its secrets. The four huddled over it, checking for unfamiliar names and footsteps. When they saw that the coast was clear, and that nobody was anywhere near the passageway they would be taking, Leslie closed up the map, muttered, "_Mischief managed,"_ and the four friends set off.

They entered the secret passageway through the left wing corridor, behind an old painting of an elephant. As they climbed through the hole in the wall, one by one, they kept watch to be sure nobody noticed their disappearance into the passageway. Sirius sounded, well, _serious _about not being followed.

Harry replaced the painting and lit his wand as the four traveled through the low passageway, hearing nothing but the sounds of each other breathing.

It didn't take long before they were in the secret tunnel directly under the Great Hall, that could also be accessed through Hogsmeade. It made sense why Sirius didn't want them to be followed - if anyone else figured out the school's underground connection to Hogsmeade, well, in the wrong hand's, that could be disastrous.

Sirius was already there waiting for them, huddled by a small fire he had conjured up with his own wand. He smiled to greet them, but Leslie quickly noticed it wasn't his usual smile. Something was gravely wrong.

"We got your letter, Sirius, what's so important?" Harry asked as the four friends settled themselves on the floor around the fire. Leslie ignored the sounds of running footsteps above them. No doubt, students were already arriving for dinner.

"I'm sorry to catch you so shortly after your classes ended, but it was important I meet you. I've been hearing things through the grapevine, off and on for some time, and I think I finally know enough of what is going on to fill you in, for I believe it of great importance for you all to know what is at stake." Sirius replied, and Leslie felt her own heart sink, and she didn't doubt her three friends felt the same way.

"You've no doubt heard about the escapes from Azkaban. The Daily Prophet can't keep that a secret, no matter how much the Ministry would like it under wraps. But here's what the Daily Prophet isn't releasing, because they don't know just like the majority of the wizarding world don't know. The Ministry is trying to keep it all hidden and secret, because they fear an upscale panic." Sirius breathed out. "Those that are escaping from Azkaban are Deatheaters, and I'm sure you've deduced as much, but what you probably don't know is that these Deatheaters...they're beginning to gather. Nobody knows for what purpose, but the Ministry won't release that information. Do not ask me how I came upon this, but I did, and in my opinion, I think you are in deeper danger now than you ever have been before." He looked right at Leslie then, and she felt her face paling.

"How does the Ministry know the Deatheaters are congregating?" Hermione asked.

"There have been sightings, you see, groups of Deatheaters meeting together, talking together. There...there has been talk about them, the Deatheaters I mean, planning to invade Hogwarts." Sirius replied, sharing a significant glance with Leslie, that she caught right away. She swallowed.

"For me, isn't it?" She asked. Sirius breathed out.

"I believe so. I don't understand it, though. I can't figure out for the life of me why the Deatheaters are _so _keen on Leslie." He pointed out.

"I do!" Harry exclaimed, a pinch of anger in his voice. "Don't you understand? It's because you're my friend, Leslie! Being my friend puts you, puts _all_ of you in danger! Voldemort is, and always has been, after me! Last year, Bellatrix and Pettigrew saw how much I cared about Leslie, and look at how _that _ended up! Those two must have told Voldemort, and now he knows how to get to me." Leslie felt her cheeks going pink, just a little. Yes, this was a serious situation, and perhaps there was a bit of truth to what Harry was saying, but Leslie couldn't help but feel flattered by Harry's admittance to caring for Leslie. She always knew he did, but it was nice to hear it. She cleared her thoughts, and tried to concentrate.

"Whether or not that's true, Harry, you'll _all_ be safe, so long as Dumbledore is around." Sirius turned to Leslie. "Incidentally, Leslie, I'm curious, how is your grandmother handling all this?"

Leslie swallowed.

"Erm, well, I haven't exactly told her. I know I probably should have, but I just didn't want her to worry." She explained. Before Sirius could answer, Hermione spoke up.

"Well _my_ parents are right _terrified!_ Over Christmas, it was everything I could do to convince them not to come storming into Hogwarts and pulling you out themselves! I had to sit them down for hours just to explain why Hogwarts is the safest place to be right now, I mean, I had to explain all the spells, and incant-"

"You _told _them?" Leslie asked, raising her eyebrows, both shocked and angry. Hermione simply glared at her.

"Of _course_ I told them, Leslie, they're my _parents_! I tell them everything! Besides, it's not like _you've_ said two words to them since the summer. They ask about you all the time, and it's getting harder and harder to know what to say to them." She retorted. Leslie opened her mouth to respond, but Sirius cleared his throat.

"Have any of you told Dumbledore about what happened in Hogsmeade, or with Lucius in Knockturn Alley?" He asked. Leslie sighed, and shook her head, as the other three followed suit.

"He wouldn't believe us." Harry said simply. Sirius breathed out.

"Alright, fine, if you won't tell Dumbledore, or anybody else about this, then take these." He pulled out four brass rings from his pocket, each with a small ruby stone in the middle, and handed them out to each of the kids. "I want you to wear these-"

"I'm not wearing a ring!" Ron complained.

"_Wear these," _Sirius gave Ron a significant look and Ron shut up. "If you find yourself in any kind of danger, you simply have to stroke the ring with your finger and say '_adiumentum._' I've got a ring of my own, if you use that incantation, I shall receive a message and know if one of you is in danger, and I will come to your aid, and gather more help if necessary. Wear these rings at _all_ times." He glared at Ron.

Leslie, swallowing hard as she put the ring on her finger, shared a glance with Harry. He glanced back, and she realized then just how ferociously real this situation was becoming. They were in real danger now, and there was no real way of stopping it. They had to stick together, for these were dark times, darker than she had ever imagined.

* * *

Ron and Hermione had gone to the Great Hall to save seats. Leslie made the excuse that she needed to check the map and Harry agreed to go along with her, but really, the two knew they needed to talk.

Harry was so angry, Leslie could hardly stand to be beside him, _especially_ because she knew what was eating him up inside. She breathed out, and then glared at him sideways.

"Don't even give yourself _that_ much credit!" She warned, and he startled, looking at her sideways, obviously surprised at her outburst.

"What?" He asked, looking at the ground and kicking a loose pebble. Leslie rolled her eyes.

"Please, Harry, I know you're beating yourself up over all this. You think that there being mad Deatheaters out there after me is somehow _your_ fault. Well, I hate to say it, mate, but I won't let you believe that! I think it's stupid, and careless in a time like this! Don't argue with me, Harry, just _listen!_ Don't you understand? That's what they'll _want_ you to feel! They want you to get frustrated and angry and vengeful, because when you do that, you let your guard down, and then they'll attack!" She breathed out. "Harry, I don't know much about Deatheaters, or of Voldemort, but I know that we have what they don't have. Friendship, and loyalty, so don't even _think_ about telling me to stay away from you, because it's not going to work. We've got to stay strong!"

Leslie waited, as Harry seemed to be considering her words. Finally, he turned to face her and he cleared his throat.

"I...I don't get frustrated or angry." He defended. Leslie laughed.

"Really, then what was last year?" She asked, recalling their fight. He simply blushed.

"Oh," he replied. "That." Leslie raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, _that._" She sighed, staring at him seriously. "Don't ever put me through something like that again, Harry. I...I need you, okay?"

He didn't reply, but he didn't have to. They walked on in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

* * *

By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, Leslie was secretly thankful to be attending Defence Against the Dark Arts. The rest of their week had been painfully dull, and dull classes made it a lot easier to dwell on other things, particularly the threats that lay just outside the castle. Leslie was glad for Defence Against the Dark Arts - Professor Crims always had decent lessons planned. That would get her mind of off things.

"Right, so today, we're going to take a break from our analysis of chapter's 17 and 18 because I believe we need to take a bit of a more practical approach today. Now then, we've gone over a few of the defensive spells throughout the course of the year, but today, I want to see just how well you can remember them, and I may teach you all a few new ones as well. You can never be too sure, you know. You simply never know when you could be faced with dark dangers. You need to be prepared and you need to be able to defend yourself." Crims explained once everyone was seated. Leslie felt her stomach turning inside of her - it almost seemed as though Professor Crims was looking right at her. Well, Leslie thought, so much for distraction.

They were all lined up in the practice room, wands at the ready as Professor Crims taught them certain defensive spells, blocking spells and stunning spells. Leslie listened, but the truth was, she already knew most of these spells. After all, she and her friends had had to defend themselves before.

Still, she did her best, especially when Professor Crims came up beside her and watched her perform the spells on the dummies they were to practice on. Why did it feel as though Crims was spending more time correcting Leslie's wand movements and spells more than anyone else? At first, she thought it was just her imagination, but even Ron had made comment.

"Bloody hell, could she make it any more obvious you're her favourite?" He laughed. Leslie shot him a glance.

"She's probably just ensuring our knowledge of these spells are sound. After what happened in Hogsmeade, she's right, you can never be too careful." Hermione replied, working on her blocking spell. Leslie nodded. So, was that why Crims seemed particularly more concerned with Leslie's activity? She had, after all, known about Leslie being the target that day in Hogsmeade. Was she worried?

"Alright, class, you continue to practice, alright? I have a quick errand to run, I'll be right back." Crims announced, with a smile. "Make me proud."

Crims left the room and Leslie sighed, practicing _"Rictusempra_" on the dummy, over and over again. It felt boring and monotonous, but at the same time, Leslie couldn't help but feel even more frightened, imagining this dummy as a real Deatheater, or as Voldemort himself. Was a war really coming? Were they really safe at Hogwarts? Leslie wasn't sure; the only thing she could be sure of anymore was that things were not as safe as she had once believed them to be.


	25. A Couple of Stubborn Students

January slowly made its way into February and the snow kept coming down in bucketfuls, leaving no paths for students to get through easily. It didn't matter, because for the most part, Leslie and her friends stayed inside the castle, wanting to avoid the frigid temperatures as much as they possibly could. No promise of charms or spells that would warm her up afterward made her want to venture out in that kind of weather.

So Leslie focused harder on her studies, tried to distract herself from missing Quidditch by reading up on all the famous players on all the famous teams. Harry and Ron were always ready to offer their insights and opinions on professional Quidditch. Hermione always sat by the window, rolling her eyes distractedly, while she worked on homework that wasn't due for a month.

They were checking the map more and more frequently now as well, especially with daily reports of escapees from Azkaban. Fear was now a constant companion for Leslie, as she searched that map diligently, looking for any signs of life that wasn't supposed to be within the Hogwarts walls. If what Sirius had said was right, that Deatheaters were beginning to join together, there wasn't time to pretend as though the map weren't important. All it would take was for them to let their guard down for a second.

If Leslie wasn't sleeping before Sirius' news about the Deatheaters, she most _definitely_ wasn't sleeping now. Leslie tossed and turned all night long, considering all the endless possibilities of Deatheaters invading Hogwarts. She sat up at night imagining a loud noise coming from the Gryffindor common room, like an explosion, and Deatheater after Deatheater barreling into the dorm rooms, ripping off cover after cover until they found Leslie and dragged her out, kicking and screaming.

It was no wonder she couldn't sleep.

* * *

It was a Friday afternoon and classes had just ended. Leslie had already done her homework for the weekend, so she decided to spend her afternoon in the Hogwarts' library. She was eager to look at _Hogwarts: A History_, and learn more about the security measures that actually surrounded the school. She knew Hermione had told her year after year about them, but as if she ever actually _listened._

Harry, Ron and Hermione had headed up to the common room, but when they weren't paying attention, she snuck away and headed to the library. She wrote a note for her friends and left a charm on it to deliver itself to the common room so they wouldn't worry about her, but she wanted to know. Yes, she knew she could just ask to borrow Hermione's copy of the book, but she didn't want her friends to know she was concerned for her life. At least, no more so than they already were.

The library was practically empty, which Leslie was happy for. She headed down the history aisle and grabbed one of the library's four copies of _Hogwarts: A History_ and brought it to a table in the middle of the library, ignoring Madame Pince's unapproving glare in her direction. The librarian hated students, and she was open about making that known.

Leslie turned through the pages, trying to find the chapter on security measures, and it didn't take long, there was at least 80 pages outlining the subject. She began to read, wondering just how tight security actually was at her school. Hermione was always going on about how impossible it was for anyone to break into Hogwarts, but Leslie never did understand _how_ that were possible. She needed to know for herself, needed to be sure she was as safe as everyone kept telling her she was.

Still, she unconsciously fingered Sirius' ring on her finger, remembering the charm in her head, needing to be sure she would remember it in a dangerous situation.

Leslie was in the middle of reading about the protective charms on the gates of Hogwarts when she felt a presence behind her and a voice that startled her.

"What are you doing here? You're not _studying_ are you?" Harry asked, as he lowered himself into the seat next to her. Leslie shook her head, as she smiled. He laughed.

"Well, it's the _weekend_, so why are you locking yourself up in the library, reading _Hogwarts: A History?_ You're turning into Hermione, you know? Unless there's an assignment I didn't know about...is there?" He was suddenly concerned.

"No Harry, no extra assignments you're unaware of. I just needed to check something." Leslie replied. Harry, curious now, looked down and read the chapter title - _The Safety and Security_ _of Living at Hogwarts._

"Security?" Harry inquired. Leslie breathed out and finally looked up.

"Alright, you caught me." She sighed. "Harry, you heard Sirius. There are rumors about Deatheaters coming together _and_ talk of them wanting to invade Hogwarts! Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I'd rather be aware of just how safe we really are. I mean, Deatheaters can be smart too, can't they? They practice dark magic, they're just as likely to figure out a counter spell to get in here."

Harry was quiet, he just stared at the book, like he was trying to burn a hole through it with his eyes. Leslie stared at him seriously.

"Harry, um," she swallowed. "Look, you have to listen to me, okay? I know you're not going to like it, but you've got to do as I say. If...if something should happen to me, if the Deatheaters do get into Hogwarts and, well, take me, Harry, you _can't_ come after me." She said it simply and waited for the explosion. She knew Harry wouldn't like it, but she had thought it through many times now, and she couldn't risk her best friend's life, not when she thought she could stop him.

Harry looked up at her then, glared at her for a second before he answered.

"No." He said simply. Leslie raised an eyebrow.

"This isn't a matter up for discussion, Harry." She said, feeling more angry now. "You can't come after me. That's what they _want_ you to do, Harry, that's what this is all about! You've got to just let it go!"

"I'm _not_ gonna just leave you in _their_ hands, are you crazy? Besides, it doesn't matter anyway, because they're not going to get their filthy hands on you, because _I_ won't let them!" Harry yelled, earning him a harsh shush from Madame Pince. Leslie ignored her and glared at her friend.

"Would you just shut up and _listen_ to me for once?" She hissed. "Voldemort wants to _kill_ you! What part of that don't you understand? You can't _let_ him! Harry, you're going to be a great wizard one day, I _know_ you are. I mean, you're the only one he couldn't kill, aren't you? I get the feeling that means something, Harry, so _you_ need to be alive for whatever's coming. So you've got to _promise_ me, Harry, that you'll stay away if they take me." It was hard for her to say it all, she knew it was, but she had to think about Harry too. They would take her, just to get to Harry, and she couldn't let him risk his life like that, not if she could stop it.

Harry sniffed once and looked away, and Leslie knew he was mad. He always had that look in his eyes when he was angry. He simply shook his head, never looking at her.

"Sorry, Leslie, but I can't make that promise. You don't know what you're asking." With that, he stood and left the library in quick strides.

Leslie sighed and clasped her hair in her hands, glaring at her book angrily. She wasn't interested in reading anymore.

"Is everything alright, Leslie?" It was Professor Crims, and she joined Leslie at her table and motioned toward the door. "I just saw Harry run off in a bit of a huff. He looked rather upset." Leslie simply sighed out loud, never looking up.

"Yeah well, he's just stubborn!" She spat, earning her the same menacing glare from the librarian, stopping when she realized she was with a professor. Crims only smiled, looking at Leslie with a mischievous smile.

"Well, that sort of sounds like somebody _else_ I know." She said, staring right at Leslie. Leslie looked up and realized she was talking about her. Leslie breathed out, feeling rather bitter.

"This is _different!_" She said angrily. "_This_ is a matter or death! This isn't about talking about my stupid feelings!"

"Leslie, dear, you don't have to take that tone with me." Crims said, raising an eyebrow. "So why don't you just tell me what's _really_ going on." Leslie, feeling frustrated, slammed the book shut and stared at her professor, feeling angry.

"Maybe you've forgotten, but I'm kind of a prime target right now for Deatheaters!" She hissed under her breath. Crims tilted her head a little.

"Leslie, how could you _possibly_ know that?" She asked patiently.

"Because, they were in Hogsmeade and they grabbed me! They grabbed me and one of them said, 'I've got her.' Dunno, but to _me_ that sounds like I'm a target." Leslie replied, wide-eyed. Honestly, why was Crims even _asking_ these questions?

"Leslie, they're Deatheaters. Who's to say they weren't just looking to grab _anybody?_"

Leslie sighed.

"Because," and before she knew it, she told Professor Crims all about meeting Lucius Malfoy in Knockturn Alley, threatening her and basically admitting she was their target.

"Voldemort needs me for something, and I don't know what it is, but Deatheaters are congregating, trying to figure out a way to get into Hogwarts. I'm not safe, I _know_ I'm not, no matter _how _strict the security parameters are. They're after me so they can get to Harry, and Harry's being a right git because he thinks I should stop being his friend just so I'll be safe. I told him if anything happens to me, he's to let me go. I don't want him to come for me, because they'll hurt him, probably _kill _him! But he said he can't _make_ that promise!" Leslie was breathing heavily now, feeling frustrated, sick, angry, and tense. She was _so _mad at Harry, why couldn't he just listen to her for _once_?

Professor Crims only smiled.

"Well, that's a good friend right there." She said simply. Leslie stared at her in surprise.

"No it's not, it's _stupidity, that's _what it is! You can't just go risking your life like that!" She retorted.

"Well, Leslie, let me ask you this: What would _you_ do if Harry was kidnaped by Deatheaters? Would you stay here because he told you not to go after him?" Crims asked.

"Well of course not, I-"

Oh.

Leslie felt her cheeks turning red. Why did Professor Crims have to be so sodding _smart?_

"Of course I would go after him." Leslie said quietly. Her mind went back to her first year when Ron had been taken by Professor Quirrel down into the hidden dungeons of the school, as a sort of sacrifice for Voldemort's return. Leslie had been completely willing to risk her life to save Ron's. Her mind went to her second year, when Harry had been kept by the Dursley's, forbidden to return to school. Leslie had left in the middle of the night on a broomstick and nearly faced expulsion all to get Harry out of the Dursley's house and back to school. Yes, Crims was right, because Leslie knew, if it ever came down to it, she would die for her friends.

"Well then Leslie, you can't give yourself that much authority, because Harry cares about you just as much as you care about _him,_ if not more. Don't put conditions on your friendship with Harry, sweetheart, not if you would do the same as he would." Professor Crims explained. Leslie breathed out, now understanding why Harry was angry with her and walked out. He was right, he _couldn't_ make that promise, just like she had never been able to simply walk away from their friendship like he had one suggested.

"Thanks, Professor, I suppose I should go find him and apologize." She left the book on the table and stood to leave, but Professor Crims caught her arm.

"Oh and Leslie, I wanted to ask you. Have you been practicing your defensive spells as of late?" She asked. Leslie felt her cheeks getting hotter. The truth was, no she hadn't been practicing, there was so much other homework piling up, there hadn't been a lot of time. Professor Crims had continued their practical approach as of late, but Leslie really wasn't taking it as seriously as she ought.

"Um, yes, I guess so." Leslie replied, hating to lie. Crims raised an eyebrow, and Leslie felt guilty immediately.

"Well, Leslie, I want you to work on them as much as you can, alright?" She asked. "I'm going to be giving a test on them fairly soon, and I want you to do well, understand?" Leslie only stared at her professor.

"Do you want me to do well, or do you want me to practice because you believe I'm right about the Deatheaters?" She asked, wondering if there were hidden motives behind Crims' interest in Leslie learning defensive spells.

Professor Crims simply smiled and let go of her arm with a wink.

"It's not good to worry about things until they come." She said simply. "I'll see you in class next week. Practice hard."

* * *

Leslie was running back to the Gryffindor common room when she saw Harry along the way, standing by a window in an empty corridor, staring out at the snowy landscape. Leslie stopped and swallowed hard. She hated apologizing, maybe just as much as Harry hated it, but she had been wrong this time.

"Er, Harry?" She said quietly. He didn't turn around, but he heard her. She sighed as she approached him.

"Look, I know you're mad at me right now, and you have every reason to be, because, well, you're right, and I _hate_ to say that, so don't go rubbing it in my face whenever you decide to talk to me again." She scratched her nose. "I know if this whole situation were reversed and you were the one in danger, I would be so angry at you for even remotely suggesting I stay behind and pretend like you weren't taken by Deatheaters." Harry turned and stared at her finally.

"Figured it out, have you?" He asked, clearly unimpressed. "Took you long enough."

"Look, Harry, I'll stop telling you to stay away if you stop telling me I shouldn't be your friend because it's dangerous. Whether you like it or not, you're _stuck_ with me, and I don't care how many more times I have to say it! Dangerous times or not dangerous times, I'm not going anywhere!" Leslie sighed. "So I'll make a deal with you. I'll accept the fact that you're going to be my hero and all, but you have to accept the fact that I'm going to be your friend, and I'm _not_ going anywhere!"

She waited, knowing Harry wouldn't like his end of the deal, only because he do desperately wanted to protect her, but he had to see it her way too. This endless stubbornness between the two of them had to stop.

Finally, Harry turned to her and sighed.

"Alright," he said. "Deal."

Leslie smiled and stuck out her hand. Harry took it and the two shook. Leslie only hoped they were wrong about this whole thing - that they really were safe at Hogwarts and nobody wanted Leslie to get to Harry and nobody wanted to _kill_ Harry.

But that was wishful thinking. It was also downright dangerous!


	26. Sirius At the Gates

March made its appearance at Hogwarts and with it came the rain. The heaps of powdery snow melted quickly enough, leaving mud puddles and slushy fields. Nearly everyday survived a downpour, and it made playing Quidditch a sour task.

But Angelina wouldn't let up, now that the snow was gone for the most part, Angelina wanted her teammates to give 110% at practices, and even more for their games.

"What do you _mean_ you lot are tired? Tired isn't gonna win us the Quidditch cup!" She'd yell.

Needless to say, between Quidditch practices and Leslie's homework, Leslie was finding it difficult to schedule time to practice the defensive spells Professor Crims had been drilling her class on for the past month. And yes, Leslie was beginning to think Crims was showing a special interest in her progress, and though her professor would never admit it, Leslie definitely had to wonder if Crims was preparing her for the danger she had been placed in.

It was only because of this danger that Leslie made time to practice the defensive spells, no matter how monotonous they seemed, or boring, or repetitive. She even made sure to practice on Harry, and asked him several times to sneak up on her when she wasn't expecting it, so she could be sure to be ready for any attack. Of course, he had only done it once, and decided being stupefied wasn't the most fun of experiences. Leslie would have to practice on a dummy.

Defence Against the Dark Arts had become exclusively practical. There was no more textbook (much to Hermione's disdain), their time was spent learning a defensive spell and using the rest of their class time to practice on dummies or each other. Hermione had a theory that Crims was working under the Ministry's advising.

"Well, think about it. Deatheaters are escaping everywhere, Voldemort could be _anywhere_. The Ministry may be keeping it hush-hush, but the fact is, Deatheaters are gathering. It's only a matter of time before they strike. Of course the Ministry will want to prepare everyone. What better way than to add it to a student's magical curriculum?" She asked. Leslie had to admit, Hermione was probably right. Professor Crims had, after all, once worked for the Ministry of Magic. It would make sense for them to recruit her. The timing was sure perfect. As soon as word gets out that Deatheaters are congregating, Hogwarts drops the textbooks and starts in on practical defensive protection? Yeah, Leslie was sure it wasn't coincidence.

Leslie found her easiest spell to perform was the paralyzing spell, which she did with such poise and ease that Professor Crims had to ask if she had learned that spell before. Leslie remembered her first year, when Ron had been taken down into the dungeon by Professor Quirrel. When she and her other two friends had gone to help him, they all ended nearly killed themselves, but Leslie, having heard the spell from a mysterious ghost-like figure she discovered was a distant relative of hers, paralyzed Professor Quirrel, which ended up saving the day. Yes, Leslie told Professor Crims, she had used it before.

Even in the darkest of these surrounding circumstances, Leslie and her friends took great comfort that Professor Wizzie and Professor Snape were back together, no matter how disgusting or strange it seemed. The detentions with their Potions master had ceased, and Leslie's potion kit still collected dust under her bed. But what brightened Leslie's spirits was Wizzie's smile and cheerful demeanor, which could lift anybody out of a foul mood, which Leslie found herself experiencing more and more these days. Not only was the weather drab and dull, or even just the constant threat of Deatheaters looming over her, but Mrs. Granger had chosen to write Leslie nearly every other day now, and Leslie's stomach doubled over every time an owl arrived at her bedroom window.

They had started two weeks ago, and they were almost always the same.

_Leslie, I hope you are well. Please write to us and tell us how things are._

_Dear Leslie, Hermione told us more Deatheaters are escaping. Do tell me you're keeping yourself safe. I'm so worried about you. If you need me to come get you, just say the word._

_Leslie, we haven't heard from you in months. Darling, what's wrong?_

_Leslie, please write back and tell me what's bothering you. I'm so sick with worry, not just about the Deatheaters either. It's not good to hold things inside, my dear._

_Dearest Leslie, perhaps you should tell your grandmother about the Deatheaters, or your Headmaster. You're not old enough to be protecting yourself. You're still a little girl!_

_Leslie, why are you shutting everybody out?_

Leslie ignored each and every one of them, but each of them made the hole in her stomach grow larger. She kept them in her trunk at the bottom, along with an old quill set and a purple jumper she never wore. Hermione asked why Leslie never wrote back to her mum, and Leslie made up the excuse that she was too busy, and so Hermione was left to write to her mother and explain why Leslie wasn't writing. Although Leslie had a feeling Hermione wasn't writing about Leslie's busy schedules. She didn't care, she couldn't, not now. Besides, what did Mrs. Granger know anyway? Shutting everybody out? That wasn't true. Crims knew stuff, and so did Harry. It was the Granger's she didn't want to talk to.

On a Thursday afternoon, Leslie was sitting near the fire in the Gryffindor common room, staring at the long strings of text in front of her from her from her History of Magic textbook. She had to read a chapter on the Revolutionary Heroics of Sir Andrew Clement, a 16th century wizard who did something heroic, but Leslie could hardly keep her eyes open, and every word she read didn't register. She had to have it read by tomorrow, but none of it was making sense to her. It was her least favourite subject besides Potions, but even tonight, she thought reading about essence of bezoar would be more fascinating than this.

Yawning, she looked around the empty room. Hermione was in the library, Ron was serving a detention with McGonagall for not having his homework done on time, and Harry went to see if Hagrid had any broomstick polisher so he could clean up his new Firebolt. He had asked Leslie to go with him, not wanting to leave her alone. He had become so protective these last few months, ever since the attack at Hogsmeade, he hardly wanted to leave her side, but she had convinced him (after checking the map) that she would be fine for half an hour, what could possibly happen in that time period anyway?

Sighing, she slammed her book shut and decided she would wait until she could ask Hermione for the gist of the chapter. Normally, she was a diligent student, but with all the sleepless nights and constant letters from the Grangers had Leslie's mind shutting down and leaving her feeling rather muddled.

Looking out the window, Leslie smiled when she saw that the rain had eased up a little. Yes, it was still raining, but just a little, and it was then that Leslie realized she hadn't even flown her new broomstick yet. She'd had her Firebolt for three months yet and hadn't flown it. She had decided against flying it for Quidditch just yet, she wanted to make sure she could get used to its new speed and agility before using it on the field. She couldn't let anything affect her game, Angelina would have her head if her skills suddenly vanquished because of a new broomstick.

Knowing her homework was a write-off anyway, she ran to her dormitory and donned her raincoat and gloves, grabbing the Firebolt from under her bed. She breathed in slowly, taking in the new polished wood smell and admired her new gift for a moment before running back down to the common room.

Pulling out a spare bit of parchment, she scrawled a quick note for Harry.

_Harry, I've gone to wear in the new Firebolt. Back soon, Leslie._

She ran the entire way, through corridors, past students and out the front doors, making a beeline toward the Quidditch pitch. Pleased to find it empty, she felt her feet sink into the muddy field and felt the rain pelting gently against her face. Without a moment to spare, Leslie mounted her broomstick, immediately feeling the effects of the built-in cushions that were far more comfortable than her old Nimbus. Yes, she had a feeling after today, she would never ride the Nimbus again.

Kicking off, she gripped the broomstick quickly, because the speed was much more intense than she had anticipated. Nearly falling off her broomstick, she clung hard as the broomstick shot through the air. As she regained her bearings, she looked down and realized how high she had shot up within only seconds. It gave her such a rush of adrenaline that she laughed out loud, and began spiraling through the air in new and probably dangerous ways. She was having fun, though, speeding through the clouds at alarmingly new speeds, dive bombing and feinting briskly. She laughed as she avoided flying birds and spun around, refusing to land; landing would only darken her spirits.

As she laughed to herself, flying freely through the sky, she tried to remember the last time she felt like this; happy, laughing, carefree. She realized it was the Mistleball. The thought darkened her spirits significantly. She remembered feeling fairly carefree throughout her first couple of years at Hogwarts. Sure, there was always imminent dangers to be faced, and her a chunk of her third year was spent fighting with Harry, but as of late, there wasn't much to find happiness in. Deatheaters were trying to get to her for some reason, Mrs. Granger wouldn't let her alone and Leslie was still an orphan who had to deal with the fact that she would never have a mother of her own. As she flew in mindless circles, she wondered how her life had come to this. She had gone from a bright and excited 11-year-old girl attending Hogwarts for the first time to a dark and sullen 14-year-old who felt bitterness toward everything, who found it difficult to embrace laughter.

Leslie thought about people like Parvati and Lavender, her roommates. They had come from good families, and it showed - the girls were always so happy. She envied their lives at times. They came from good families and they didn't have to deal with being in danger all the time.

But then, Leslie imagined that's exactly what her life could have been like, had she never met Harry.

If she had never met Harry, she would be just like Parvati and Lavender, going on about their studies, not having to worry about a single danger. She would just watch from the sidelines, hear the rumors about Harry and his crazy friends' run-ins with danger. Yes, if she had never met Harry, she wouldn't be in danger right now, that much was obvious. She would only have to watch from the sidelines, detached, not having to care while she gossiped with her set of friends about how much Harry Potter was just a glutton for punishment, or desperate for attention. No, she didn't believe any of that was true, but she'd heard people talking in the corridors over the past three years.

But life without Harry, it was unheard of now. The two had shared so much together now, there was no going back, and even if she could, she wouldn't. Harry was one of her best friends, they shared more than just a common room, they shared a bond that nobody else had. The danger that came along with being Harry's friend didn't matter, not if it meant sacrificing him to be safe. That wasn't worth it. No, they were in this together forever now. She could never leave him.

As she spiraled in circles, her mind in a daze, she glanced out yonder and saw a speck in the distance that seemed to be coming closer and closer. She stopped and tried to squint her eyes to see through the fog and rain. Was that...another Firebolt?

Before she even knew what was going on, the Firebolt darted right toward her at full speed. Reacting and trying to move out of the way caused her to lose her balance and before she could grab her broomstick, she fell off, and started to fall.

Before a scream could leave her lips, a hand grabbed hers and she looked up to see Harry on his Firebolt, holding her while she dangled in the air.

"Come on, Leslie, up you get." He pulled her up and dropped her back on her own broomstick, which she clung to with a small groan. She glared at Harry out of the corner of her eye.

"Why do you always have to rescue me?" She complained, causing him to laugh a little.

"Well, I didn't want you to land badly. You're already so great at doing that on your own." Harry replied. Leslie only glared at him, and he bit his lip to keep from laughing anymore.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?" Leslie asked after a few seconds. Harry's smile disappeared and he grew very serious.

"I got your note. You know Leslie, you _really_ shouldn't be out here on your own, it doesn't matter _where_ you go." He scolded. Leslie was taken aback. Harry had flown his broomstick out here just so she wouldn't be alone? She breathed out, frustrated, she felt like she was being babied.

"Harry, come _on!_ You follow me everywhere, and while I enjoy your company, it's not the end of the world if I come out to the Quidditch pitch to fly my broomstick. We're within Hogwarts, I'm sure that's safe, at least." To be honest, she wasn't sure, but what was certain nowadays anyhow?

"Yes, but you heard what Sirius said. The Deatheaters are trying to invade the school. Any minute now, a Deatheater could climb these walls, hide in the bushes and jump you while you're flying your broomstick and Apparate out of here before we even knew what happened." Harry pointed out.

"Well actually, Harry, that's not possible, the walls are charmed and you can't Apparate within-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I've heard it a million times. You really are starting to sound like Hermione." He paused. "Look, I'd rather just stick together, you know, to be safe." Leslie sighed.

"Fine, you win." She smiled. "How'd you know where to find me, anyway? I only said I was flying the Firebolt."

"Oh that, yeah, I kind of checked the map to see where you were." Harry replied, growing pink slightly in the cheeks. Leslie threw her head back in frustration, causing her to nearly lose her balance again. She ignored Harry's hand this time.

"That stupid map, whizbees, it takes away my privacy!" She complained. Harry shrugged, but stared at her with a seriousness she knew she shouldn't jest with.

"Sorry, Leslie, until this all gets sorted out, no privacy for you." He replied. Sighing, she resigned herself to her friend, agreeing that she wouldn't go anywhere alone anymore. She knew it wasn't the worst thing in the world, at least she had great friends to keep her company.

* * *

"Harry, why are you tormenting yourself with this? We've played four games and I've beat you each time." Leslie whined later that evening as the rain pelted loudly against the window. Leslie and Harry were sitting by the fireplace, engaged in wizard's chess, which they had started playing a few hours ago, when Harry had announced he was determined to destroy Leslie's new winning streak. Harry was so competitive, and Leslie thought _she_ was bad.

"Just one more, Leslie, I swear, I'll beat you." Harry said, arranging the chess pieces carefully, never looking up. Leslie yawned.

"You know, it's not the worst thing in the world to let a girl win once in a while." She pointed out. He looked up and glared at her.

"Hey, it's got nothing to do with the fact that you're a girl. It's...it's just, well, erm-"

"Oh come off it, Harry, it's because I'm a girl. I know, I've heard you and Ron complain about me winning so much. Well then, let's have it then, if you're so good, beat me." She smiled as he muttered something incoherently under his breath. She was sure she heard cursing in there somewhere. She had to admit, she was quite enjoying this winning streak. Finally, something she could be better at than Harry.

"While you finish setting up, I'm going to check the map, Harry." She said as she stood up. He waved her off, concentrating on the chess board, contemplating his first moves while she pulled out the map and spread it out over her lap.

"_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."_ She said and the map revealed itself slowly and she waited for everything to clear up.

"Are Ron and Hermione still in the library?" Harry asked, never looking up from the chess board. The two had left a couple of hours ago so Hermione could help Ron finish (or start, rather) his Muggle studies essay that was due the next day. He admitted to not having started it right after dinner and received quite the lecture from Hermione, who practically dragged him down to the library to get it finished.

Leslie checked the map and found the library, immediately spotting the small footsteps with Ron's and Hermione's names hovering. She nodded.

"Yeah, they're still there. I reckon Ron's only got his introduction finished." She pointed out. Harry sighed audibly. Leslie laughed.

"You just want someone to play who you know you're able to beat once in a while." She giggled. He shot a glare her way.

"I never said that." But he was turning a lovely shade of pink.

"Ew, Wizzie and Snape are together in the gardens. It's raining, only Professor Snape would enjoy something as miserable as a walk through mud and slop." Leslie pointed out when she saw the couple together on the map. Harry sighed.

"Even that's better than having your butt whipped at wizard's chess by a-, er, by you." He caught himself. Leslie rolled her eyes.

"Oh come off it, Harry, it's just a-...Harry?" Something had caught her eye on the map, something she wasn't used to seeing. Checking the map had become routine for her now, familiar with each and every name that repeatedly showed itself on the map. A new name had definitely caught her off guard. Harry turned and saw the seriousness on Leslie's face and walked over.

"What?" He asked, leaning over her.

"Why is Sirius here?" She asked, pointing to the small footprints that were hovering outside the Hogwart's front gates, the footprints with Sirius Black's name over them. That was definitely a name they had never seen on this map before.

Harry puckered his brow.

"Are you sure it's him?" He asked. Leslie rolled her eyes.

"Do you know of any students or professors by that name? Of _course_ it's him. But why is he here? Wouldn't he have written us first if he was coming?" She asked. Harry scrunched up his face.

"I dunno, he should have...unless something was wrong." He swallowed. "Think about it, Leslie, what if owls going into Hogwarts have been intercepted by Deatheaters? The only way he'd be able to get a hold of us is by showing up. He knows we have the Marauder's. Maybe he's been counting on us to be checking the map every few moments and knowing we'd see him out there. Maybe he has something important to tell us."

Leslie swallowed, nodding her agreement. He was right, he _had_ to be. Why else would Sirius just show up at Hogwarts?

"It's late, Harry, we can't just go out there, we'll be caught by a teacher, or worse, Filch. It's past curfew." She pointed out. He only smiled.

"You're forgetting a valuable piece of magic I own."

* * *

Within minutes, Harry and Leslie found themselves under the all-too-familiar invisibility cloak Harry had been given in his first year at Hogwarts. The foursome had definitely made use of it over the years, but Leslie had noticed that as they grew older, the cloak seemed to grow smaller, and now, as Harry and Leslie were cramped under it, trying hard to crouch down so as not to let their feet show, Leslie was wondering how many more years they'd be able to make use of this, and worse, how all_ four_ would ever fit under here was a mystery to her. She hoped they'd never need to.

They shifted down the corridors, nearly tumbled down the stairs, and made their way out the castle's front doors and slowly down the path, feeling themselves getting drenched quickly by the rain.

"Honestly, you'd think whoever designed this cloak would have thought of a built-in rain protector charm or _something._" Leslie hissed in complaint, as she stepped in a pile of mud, cursing to herself. Harry ignored her, he was just as eager to reach the Hogwart's gates and meet Sirius as she was, not only to get out of this sodding cloak, but to find out why Sirius would have them risking a detention to meet them. As they attempted to quicken their pace (it wasn't as easy as they made it out to be), Leslie tried to block out all the possibilities for Sirius' presence here. Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was just a test, to make sure they were checking their map. _But at night? After curfew?_ She wasn't thoroughly convinced.

They squeezed through the Hogwarts' gates that they managed to open quietly and once they were out of Hogwarts' grounds, they turned the corner, waiting until they were blocked by the tall brick walls that enveloped the castle before they removed the invisibility cloak. Leslie sighed, looking up at the dark clouds and hardly able to see more than a few feet in front of her for rain. She saw Harry and the two of them circled around, wondering where Sirius was.

"Where outside of Hogwarts' gates did you see Sirius?" Harry yelled out over the rain and thunder. Leslie shook her head.

"He was right here, right where we are right now. But I don't see him, do you?" She yelled in response. He shook his head and they looked around for any signs of Sirius Black, but there was nothing to be seen.

They continued to walk up and down the stone path, searching for Sirius, but they didn't see anything. About to give up and return to the common room to check the map again, a figure approached them. It didn't take them long to figure out that it was Professor Crims, dressed in a dark black cloak. Leslie's eyes widened. A teacher, well that was it, they'd be serving detention this week, even if it _was_ Professor Crims. _Well, at least it won't be painful._ Leslie thought, thinking of Snape's potion cleansing detentions.

Harry and Leslie looked up at Professor Crims, and Harry immediately nudged Leslie to do the talking. Great, leave it to Harry to whimper out.

"Hello, Professor, um, well, I can explain why we're out here. I know we're not supposed to be, it's just that...well-" Leslie was kind of distracted. Professor Crims was not herself. There was no smile, there was no brightness in her eyes. She only looked at the two with despairing eyes and Leslie was even sure she saw a tear in them. She swallowed.

"Professor. What's wrong?" She asked. Professor Crims only shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Leslie." She whispered, almost inaudibly. "I'm so sorry."

Before Leslie could even ask what she was talking about, another figure joined them, and this one, Leslie recognized immediately.

It was Lucius Malfoy, and in one quick motion, he swivelled between them and grabbed Harry by the arm, while Leslie could feel Professor Crims' hands grab her own arm. Everything happened so quickly.

"_Accio Portkey!_" Lucius bellowed and a ratty old shoe flew at them, and Lucius and Crims both grabbed it simultaneously.

The sensation was all too familiar. Leslie had traveled by Portkey once before, but this was something altogether entirely different. As the four flew into the air, circling at speeds of light, the rain pelted Leslie in the face and arms, hurting, and she could still feel Crims' tight hands around her muscle. Fear grasped at her, as the reality of what was happening was dawning on her. Malfoy was here, he grabbed Harry. He was a Deatheater. What...what was Crims doing here?

The wind rushed through her ears and before she knew what was happening, they were spiraling down to the earth quickly before they collided with the ground. Both Harry and Leslie fell to their hands and knees, while Crims and Lucius landed with grace.

"Get up!" Malfoy said through gritted teeth as he grabbed Harry by the scruff of the neck and yanked him up forcefully. Crims was right behind him, taking hold of Leslie's arm and hoisting her up too. Both Lucius and Crims twined the kids' arms behind their backs and Leslie felt tears in her eyes as she took in her surroundings. They were in a graveyard, and there were Deatheaters all around. This couldn't be happening. This was what it had all come down to. The Deatheaters had them, _both_ of them, and worse, Professor Crims was a Deatheater. She _had_ to be. That betrayal alone made Leslie want to cry out.

But that was when Harry started to scream, and coil over in pain. Leslie turned to him, but Crims wouldn't let her move toward him. Lucius forcefully kept Harry still, but he was practically crying from the pain.

"Harry!" Leslie screamed out.

"My scar! It's..._burning!_" He yelped and that was when Leslie realized what was going on. Her stomach dropped as she took in the conglomeration of Deatheaters hovering around them. They were here because they'd been ordered to. He must be here, in this very graveyard.

Voldemort.


	27. YouKnowWho is Back

Leslie felt tears stinging her eyes as the sounds of Harry's cries rang through her ears while nearly twenty Deatheaters formed a circle around Lucius, Crims and the two students. Leslie couldn't even bring herself to look at Harry, his pain was her pain, and she couldn't even comfort him. Crims wasn't letting go.

Two familiar figures emerged from the crowd of Deatheaters then, and as they stepped forward into the light of the moon, Leslie felt her insides churning when she realized it was Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew. Leslie swallowed, feeling the pain in her limbs returning as she remembered the excruciating pain of the Cruciatus Curse that Lestrange had caused a year ago. Leslie unconsciously felt herself moving backwards as Bellatrix approached her with a sneer, but Crims kept her still.

Crims. Though her hands were gentle holding Leslie's arms behind her back, they felt like knives stabbing into Leslie. Professor Crims, her teacher, the same woman who had allowed her to cry in her office, made her hot cocoa when she was sad, bought her a dress, gave her a wonderful night at the Mistleball, done everything, so it seemed, to protect Leslie at Hogsmeade and at school, was a Deatheater. Leslie bit her lip to keep from crying. Now it all made sense. That was why Crims was trying to get close to Leslie - she was just positioning herself for this moment. Leslie had trusted her, and Crims had preyed upon that trust. Now, Harry and Leslie were caught in the Deatheater's grips, without wands. Of course they hadn't thought to bring them along, they had believed Sirius was waiting for them. Leslie mentally slapped herself for being so naive. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she couldn't even brush it away.

Leslie felt cold fingertips under her chin, and in a quick motion, Bellatrix lifted Leslie's head so she could look at her, and Leslie swallowed as those cold black eyes stared hard at Leslie, her lips curling into a smile. She started to laugh.

"Oh, Leslie, dear Leslie, I knew I would see you again soon. You thought you could escape us last year? Surely, you don't know the Dark Lord like we do." She laughed again.

"Don't touch her!" Harry shouted from beside her. Leslie turned to him in enough time to see another Deatheater slap him hard across the face. Leslie screamed out as she tried to free herself from Crims' grasp. She wanted to go to Harry!

"Stop it!" She screamed and the Deatheater who slapped him just leered at her and went back to his place in the circle. Leslie felt tears burning her eyes as those cold hands cupped her chin and forced her to look away from Harry into Bellatrix's eyes again.

"Naughty, naughty." She made a tsk-ing sound and laughed quietly again. Leslie swallowed.

"What, what is it you want with us?" She wished she could sound braver, but the severity of the situation was weighing on her. "I knew, I knew you wanted me for something, Malfoy said so! But _why?_ If you wanted me dead, why didn't you just kill me in Hogsmeade?" Leslie screamed out, not fearing what she should or shouldn't say. They were probably going to kill them anyway. Leslie swallowed when she felt a small squeeze on her arm behind her. Leslie ignored her. Was Crims trying to tell her not to speak up? As if she was going to listen to _her_ anymore.

Bellatrix laughed again, letting go of Leslie's chin and beginning to pace.

"Leslie, Leslie, you really are too smart for your own good. You're right, we did need you for something, and it required you to be alive. If I had it my way, I would have found you during your first visit to Hogsmeade and tortured you to death. That was my wish, but the Dark Lord had other plans for you." She sneered. "It was really rather simple, once we learned you and your friends had acquired the Marauder's Map." Leslie swallowed hard, her eyes widening ever so slightly.

"How...how did you know I, we-"

"Oh come off it, Leslie, I thought you were smart. It was really rather easy to know of your every move, with one of our own on the inside. Cassie here, or Professor Crims, as you know her as, was our mole. Sweet, soft, sensitive Cassandra Crims, and you were drawn to her like a fish to its bait. You know, when Crims was at Hogwarts, she was a Ravenclaw, although I bet she already told you that, didn't she? She really is brilliant, and it was just all too easy for her to re-design the Marauder's Map, a manipulated version that we could use for our gain. A false Marauder's, and you never even realized yours had been switched for a fake. How could you suspect such a thing, you were so close to your teacher. And the rest is history. We knew you'd been meeting and writing with Sirius Black, so we used a little bit of dark magic to make you see him at the front gates, even though he wasn't there." Bellatrix laughed that high-pitched laugh and breathed out. "And here you are, in our clutches, just like we planned all along."

Leslie swallowed as she felt a tear stabbing her eye. Professor Crims had betrayed them, she was responsible for bringing them to this place, to their deaths.

Things went quiet then as Bellatrix backed up and joined the rest of the Deatheaters. Off in the distance, a hooded Deatheater appeared out of the fog, carrying what looked like a bundle of black cloth. The man was carrying it carefully, as though its contents were fragile, breakable. Leslie tried to get a better look, but when Harry's painful grunts became a long, drawn out scream, Leslie's heart hammered hard in her chest. No, it couldn't be. But then, the last time she had seen Voldemort, he had been nothing more than a cloaked mist.

Leslie's throat closed up inside her, and her heart was clawing its way out of her chest, she could feel it. This was Voldemort himself, the same wizard who had been rounding up Deatheaters all year, the same wizard who Bellatrix and Peter had last year wanted to please by offering Harry as a gift, the same wizard who would have willingly killed four innocent students in order to gain his body back. He would stop at nothing to rise to power, to kill Harry Potter. The fear in Leslie was like nothing she had ever experienced before. There was no hope, not if Voldemort was here, not if he had a plan first.

Leslie could feel herself trembling as the Deatheater marched forward with Voldemort. Harry was sobbing in pain, his scar hurt so bad, and Leslie wanted to fight against her restraints to go to him, but Crims was strong, and even if Leslie managed to get away, then what? There were too many Deatheaters, all armed with wands, and Voldemort was in the center. What could _she_ do?

Leslie felt the tears flying freely down her face, and she didn't care anymore. She could do nothing but watch the horrific events unfold before her.

"Is the potion ready, Wormtail?" The Deatheater asked in a low voice. It was then that Leslie realized he was standing in front of a cauldron she hadn't seen before. Bubbling and spewing green over its sides, it was like nothing Leslie had ever seen before, nothing in Potions or her textbooks. That scared her even more.

"Nearly." Pettigrew sneered. "All that's missing is the Lustratio Magic. Once we have that, the Dark Lord will regain his power, his body and his strength." He smiled widely, staring at the bundle as though it were something to be worshiped. Leslie wanted to vomit, and then a shrill voice rang through the graveyard.

"Prepare the victims!" It was Voldemort, the sound was coming from that bundle. She was right! It was him! What did he mean, prepare the victims?

It didn't take long for Leslie to realize he was talking about Harry and Leslie. They were going to kill them, or worse, torture them, she didn't know.

It was then that she remembered the ring.

Sirius's ring.

She swallowed hard, ignoring the approaching Deatheaters. Her ring was on her index finger, so she shakily moved her thumb alongside it and stroked it quickly.

"_Adiumentum_."She muttered so low, she hardly heard herself. She could only hope now that Sirius heard her cry.

Pettigrew and Bellatrix were coming toward Leslie and Harry with sneers and laughs. Before she knew what was happening, Crims took Leslie's left arm and held it out in front of her, moving her right arm around Leslie's body to hold her still. Leslie craned her neck to see Lucius doing the same with Harry. Leslie's heart was beating, her breathing heavy as Bellatrix approached her with a laugh.

"This is going to hurt, little Leslie." She laughed as she drew a small blade from her pocket. Leslie tried to pull away, she screamed, she cried, but nothing could help her. She was stuck, she couldn't move and Bellatrix just laughed as she took Leslie's wrist and sliced it in one quick movement. Leslie cried out in pain as she saw the blood trickling down her wrist, onto the ground. She felt her face drain of color as she felt faint. She managed a look over when Harry screamed out and saw Pettigrew had sliced his wrist just as badly. Leslie breathed out, breathed in, trying to steady her breathing. She was losing blood, she felt as though she were losing consciousness.

Bellatrix and Pettigrew approached the cauldron with the knives covered in the kids' blood and threw them in the pot, causing the rising green smoke to turn a shade of blue. Leslie wanted to cry - whatever they needed to finish the potion, they had it. It was finished with their blood. Leslie felt faint, rocking on the spot. She hardly noticed Crims was holding her wrist where she had been cut.

Pettigrew started pacing around the cauldron then, looking inside with wide, hungry eyes before he started chanting.

"_Caedis absisto lustratio hosticus, resurgo!"_

The Deatheater holding the bundle of blankets came forward and dropped the bundle into the cauldron.

Harry screamed out.

Leslie stopped breathing when the contents of the cauldron began bubbling fiercely, and the Deatheaters surrounding the graveyard waited in eager anticipation. It happened quickly, and Leslie knew they were done for when she saw a head emerging from the cauldron. He was coming out!

Leslie and Harry could only watch with racing hearts, trembling bodies and the most intense fear they had ever felt in their entire lives as Voldemort himself emerged from the cauldron with a full body, with eyes, and ears and hands and feet, cloaked all in black. He had his body back. _He_ was back. Leslie and Harry were staring into the form of the strenghtened Voldemort, the darkest wizard who ever lived.

And they were wandless and helpless.

Voldemort, with slits for nostrils and red beaming eyes, took in a long breath as he stepped out of the cauldron, slowly bringing his long, bony fingers to his head, as though feeling to make sure it all worked. His eyes were closed as he moved slowly, craning his neck back and forth. Leslie realized all the Deatheaters had fallen to their knees in adoration. Leslie swallowed - this couldn't be happening. She stole a glance at Harry, who couldn't pry his eyes away from the wizard who had murdered his parents, who had lost all his strength from being unable to kill Harry all those years ago. Now, he stood before them, strength regained, renewed.

Voldemort opened his eyes then and glanced around the graveyard, taking in his surroundings. He moved slowly, gracefully, looking at each Deatheater in turn as his lips curled into a strange sort of smile.

"My faithful followers, rise." Voldemort ordered and in seconds, the Deatheaters found their feet and resumed standing. Voldemort nodded to each of them in turn, hearing them all mutter phrases of loyalty and receiving a small bow. Voldemort was edging his way around the circle of Deatheaters, inching ever closer to Harry and Leslie. Leslie tried to struggle against Crims' grip, but it was no use, Crims wasn't letting go. Leslie felt tears leaking out of the corners of her eye. Where was Sirius? Hadn't he gotten her message? Had she said the incantation wrong?

Harry closed his eyes tightly and swallowed a grunt. Leslie knew his scar must be agonizingly painful, what with the risen Voldemort standing only inches from him. Leslie wanted nothing more than to be with him, feel him near her, hold him.

"Harry Potter!" Voldemort hissed seconds later and Leslie looked up to see the dark wizard standing in front of Harry. Leslie pulled away instinctively, wanting to protect Harry from Voldemort, but Crims kept a tight hold, and whispered something Leslie didn't hear.

"Harry Potter, Harry Potter." Voldemort let the words roll on his tongue for a moment. "Dear boy, you have managed to elude my clutches for 13 years now. You know, there were days I didn't think it would ever come to this, you managed so many times to escape me, or my followers, and yet here you are after all, in my graveyard, surrounded by my followers. After 13 years, I finally am able to do what I've wanted to do all along: kill you!" Shrieks and shouts of approval and excitement came from the Deatheaters and Voldemort smiled at them, before returning to look at Harry.

"Oh, but you didn't make it easy, did you? It would have been easy some time a year or so ago, wouldn't it? Back when your blood alone would have been sufficient for my body to return to me. But you just had to play the hero, didn't you, Harry Potter? By being the knight in shining armor, you _transferred_ the _Lustratio Magic, _didn't you? Not only did I need your blood, Potter, but I needed the blood of your friend over here, Ms. Leslie Perks." Leslie shuddered when Voldemort turned his greedy red eyes upon her. He turned back to Harry. "It wouldn't have worked without her. I had no choice but to get the two of you together, which really wasn't all that difficult, I suppose. Potter, you really are a gullible boy, and your friend, well she's even worse, isn't she? You'd think with everything you've seen over the years, all the danger you've been put through, you'd learn not to trust everyone you meet, trust in everything you see." Voldemort laughed and Leslie swore she felt Crims' grip tighten around her arms. Leslie swallowed hard - what was Voldemort talking about? What was _Lustratio Magic?_

"No matter, you're going to die now, all the same." Voldemort pulled out his wand. "I'm lucky enough to have this opportunity to kill Harry Potter by my own hands, something I've wanted for 13 years! However, my faithful servant, Bellatrix, she has begged me for the allowance to be the one to take dear Leslie's life. After all, Leslie, Bella holds a certain grudge toward you for last year." Voldemort grinned and Leslie could hear Bellatrix's high pitched laughter coming from behind him. She came up beside him and stood staring at Leslie with hungry eyes as she pulled out her wand. Leslie's heart wouldn't stop racing, and she couldn't fight the tears - she was going to die, Bellatrix was going to torture her and then kill her. And Harry...oh not Harry.

"Release the children." Voldemort ordered Lucius and Crims. Lucius let go of Harry roughly, and he fell to the grass. Crims wouldn't let go though. Leslie swallowed, watching as Bellatrix approached slowly, reaching out her free hand and grabbing Leslie's shirt.

"Wait!" Crims hissed in a low whisper, causing Bellatrix to look up in surprise. Leslie held her breath, smelling the dirt on Bellatrix's hand. Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

"What's the problem, Cas?" She asked. Crims breathed out, and Leslie realized she was shaking. Her voice was trembling!

"This wasn't the plan!" Crims whispered fiercely. "He just needed their blood. Nobody said anything about killing them."

Leslie couldn't make sense of what she felt in that moment. It didn't make sense. One moment, Crims had grabbed her, and brought her to this graveyard to Voldemort himself, revealing herself as Deatheater, and the next, she was, what, pleading for their lives?

Bellatrix snorted.

"Seriously, Cassie, did you think the Dark Lord was just going to let them go? Even you know better than that." Before Crims could even respond, Voldemort walked forward, no doubt wondering what the holdup was.

"Do you have something you need to _say_ to me, Cassandra?" He asked, closing in. Leslie stopped breathing, he was _right_ in front of her.

Crims steadied her breathing and Leslie waited. What would she do? What would she say?

"N-no, my Lord." She quivered. Voldemort watched her for a moment before turning back to circle around Harry. Crims still wasn't letting go of Leslie, but Bellatrix still had her hand gripping Leslie's shirt, and with one swift jerk, Leslie was forced to the ground, out of Crims' grip, and feeling the blinding pain from her sliced up wrist.

She had just enough time to look up and see Bellatrix standing over her with her wand raised. Leslie, shaking and crying, looked over at Harry, who looked back and gave a smile, the smallest smile she had ever seen. Even with Voldemort himself pointing a wand at him to kill, Harry still had enough strength and bravery left to reassure his best friend. Leslie couldn't tear her eyes away from him, and he never looked away. If she was going to die, she wanted the last thing she ever saw to be her best friend, who had always done everything to protect her and never stopped caring. She could do nothing else but wait to hear the spell that would kill them.

She did hear a spell, but it wasn't what she had expected.

"_Stupefy!"_

She heard Bellatrix let out a long shriek, and then a thud.

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"_Reducto!"_

Leslie forced herself to look up and she saw Deatheaters running about wildly, flinging themselves in every direction, avoiding spells, hit by spells, dodging and rolling around. Bellatrix stumbled to her feet and looked around ferociously, drawing her own wand. That wasn't what stopped Leslie's heart, though. Voldemort was nowhere to be found.

"_Crucio!"_

"_Avada kedavra!"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"_Stupefy!"_

Spells were flying back and forth and it was then that Leslie caught a glimpse of Sirius, running carefully and casting spells, ducking and dodging. He wasn't alone either. Leslie recognized Professor Lupin almost immediately, and Dumbledore was there too. Leslie breathed out - he had gotten her message, he had come!

In seconds, Harry was beside her, shielding her with his body as she clutched him tightly. Spells were flying everywhere, some Deatheaters were fighting Sirius and the others, while other Deatheaters Apparated out of the graveyard.

"Where is he?" Leslie shouted over the yelling and spells, fearing any moment now, she would be hit with a curse.

"Who?" Harry screamed.

"Voldemort!"

Harry didn't have an answer, he just dodged passing spells as best he could, protecting Leslie as best he could, under the circumstances.

Leslie still felt tears, helpless, hopeless tears. There were too many Deatheaters, how were Sirius, Lupin and Dumbledore going to fight them all? How were they going to get out of the graveyard alive?

"Leslie." A familiar voice said quietly, hardly audibly. Leslie stopped breathing, as she turned, shaking, toward the direction of the voice.

It was Crims, and she was crawling her way toward them.

Leslie gasped and backed away as Harry grabbed her protectively, glaring hard at the Deatheater.

"Stay away from her!" Harry shouted. Leslie bit her lip, taking in Crims. She looked...panicked, and she quickly pressed her fingers to her lips to indicate silence. Leslie swallowed hard, wondering what in the world Crims was doing.

Crims stopped a fair distance away and looked around nervously before she finally spoke.

"Get to the Portkey!" She hissed. "You have to get out of here. Use the Portkey." She softly pointed behind them, and Leslie craned her neck to see the forgotten shoe about thirty feet away. Leslie's eyes widened: a way out, Crims had shown them the way back to Hogwarts, an escape. Leslie turned back, seeing the look in Crims' eyes, wondering what it was, but before she could say anything to her, a spell hit her.

"_Stupefy!"_ And Crims was out.

Leslie stared at her for a second, tears in her eyes as she took in everything. The battle was still fierce around them. Her emotions were raw, her wrist was throbbing, her heart was thrashing. She jerked back to reality when Harry took her hand.

"Come on, Leslie, let's go!" He pulled her up and looked around carefully to make sure the coast was clear. The last thing he wanted was to get them both killed when they'd been given a way out. When Harry saw there was nobody closeby, he yanked Leslie's hand and the two were running across the graveyard, ducking and side-stepping spells.

Leslie's legs felt numb as she stumbled across the wet grass, nearly slipping as Harry's hand clutched hers tightly. Leslie glanced behind her, taking in the scene. Crims was down, out cold, Bellatrix was throwing curses at Sirius in between her high shrieks, there were only a few Deatheaters left, squaring off against Dumbledore and Lupin. Leslie couldn't help but feel guilty for leaving them behind. People she cared about were fighting pure evil to save them, and she could do nothing to help. She and Harry didn't have their wands.

"Leslie!" Harry screamed when he noticed Leslie was falling behind. Leslie jumped and turned back in enough time to see the shoe, the Portkey, but Harry grabbed it quickly, gripping her hand in his other hand, and before she knew it, Leslie was flying through the sky with Harry. She closed her eyes; the swirling and twirling wasn't helping the dizziness that already plagued her. She was certain she was still bleeding.

Soon, she felt rain pelting her face and she knew they were hovering over Hogwarts. She forced herself to open her eyes in enough time to collide with the hard ground. She groaned, as the rain drenched her and Harry to the bone.

Leslie picked herself off the ground and helped Harry up. She breathed a sigh of relief as she looked up at her school, her home. She was safe.

As Leslie and Harry scurried through the Hogwarts' gate, Leslie couldn't help but think about what she meant by being safe. After everything that had happened, was Hogwarts truly safe? In her first year, her Defence Against the Dark Arts professor turned out to be a Deatheater. In her second year, a student had been placed under the Imperius curse, which led to the death of a friend by poison. In her third year, Bellatrix Lestrange infiltrated the school, disguised as Professor Wizzie, and placed a curse on Leslie that led to her torture and almost death. Now, a teacher she had trusted and even cared about betrayed her and practically handed her over to be killed. Maybe Hogwarts did have all sorts of charms and measures put in place for security, but Leslie lost her faith in that. No, they could never be truly safe, not anywhere, not while Voldemort was still around.

Voldemort. The very image of him standing there in full power, no longer weak, scared Leslie to death. He was back! She hadn't been a part of the wizarding world when he'd risen to power the first time, but she'd heard the horror stories. If Voldemort continued his reign where he'd left off, then the wizarding world was in trouble. Things were going to change.

Leslie and Harry walked up the path to the school in silence, numb, confused, dizzy. They barely noticed the group of people standing on the front steps.

"Oh! Leslie! Harry!" The voice of Hermione rang through the rain and Leslie looked up in enough time to see Hermione running toward her, engulfing her in a hug. Leslie barely moved, as she noticed Ron and Professor McGonagall watching them from the front steps. Leslie swallowed, they all looked worried. They must have known Harry and Leslie were in danger; Sirius must have contacted the school. Leslie sighed.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked. Leslie looked over at Harry as she bit her lip. Alright? How would they ever be alright? Because of their blood, Voldemort was back. The thought made Leslie want to puke.

McGonagall came running down the steps and moved Hermione out of the way. She placed her hand on Leslie's shoulder.

"What happened?" She asked. Leslie noticed she sounded worried. That was rare.

Leslie couldn't find words, she just looked down at her wrist for the first time since it had been sliced open. She cringed when she saw a large, deep gash on her wrist, soaked in dark blood, which was spreading down her arm. It looked like it was still bleeding.

McGonagall followed her granddaughter's gaze until she saw the blood. She gasped.

"Good Heavens, what has happened?" She asked, gently taking Leslie's arm to check her wound. Leslie cried out in pain.

"Harry...too." She managed to say, and McGonagall glanced over to see Harry carefully raise his own arm, covered in blood. Hermione looked away with a small gasp and Ron turned white.

McGonagall turned a little pale and immediately went into professor mode, barking out orders.

"Granger, Weasley, let's get these two up to the hospital wing, immediately!" McGonagall led the way, as Hermione came up beside Leslie and Ron beside Harry, clinging to their arms as they followed Leslie's grandmother into the castle, up the winding staircases and into the hospital wing. Leslie knew she was leaving a trail of blood behind her, oh Whizbees, when was it going to stop? She barely had the strength to turn to Harry, the only other person in the world who knew her fear, who felt her pain, who understood the numbness and confusion she was feeling. Hermione and Ron could never understand the graveyard scene, and what had transpired there, how close they had been to death, how close they had been to Voldemort himself. Whizbees, Leslie could have _touched _him.

Leslie and Harry were led to a couple of beds in the corner of the hospital wing. They sat, and Hermione and Ron joined them.

"Madame Pomfrey! We will need your assistance in here!" McGonagall called then. While they waited for the doctor, McGonagall grabbed hold of a stool and sat down, staring at Leslie and Harry seriously.

"I will need to know what happened tonight, children. I understand it may have been troublesome and most likely dangerous, but you must tell me." She said, wringing her hands together.

Leslie tried to find her tongue, but found that nothing was coming out. How does one put into words that kind of terror? Her tongue felt thick, her body trembling, her eyes unable to even look up at her grandmother. How could she tell her? How could she tell anyone that the darkest wizard of all time was back, because they had been too easily misguided and trusting?

"He's...he's back." Harry managed to say, surprising Leslie, who looked up at Harry with tear-glazed eyes, seeing the same turmoil on his own face. Leslie looked back down at her wrist, barely even feeling the pain anymore - this had to be a terrible nightmare.

"Who, Potter, who's back?" McGonagall asked, but Leslie knew she didn't need to hear Harry say it. Leslie could hear it in her grandmother's voice - she knew Voldemort had returned, Whizbees, she may have even known it before they arrived back at the school, when Dumbledore left. Either way, Harry didn't have to answer, the look in his eyes, the terror floating between him and Leslie, they had seen pure horror unfold, and only one wizard could be responsible.

At that moment, Madame Pomfrey came scurrying down the hospital wing to Leslie and Harry, and immediately noticed the deep gashes on their wrists. She turned a shade of white, and immediately summoned a small vial, which floated gracefully into her hand.

"Now, hold still." She said softly as she opened the vial and took hold of Leslie's wrist. She cried out, realizing the pain once again, as Madame Pomfrey dropped some strange, yellow potion onto her wound. It stung for quite some time before Leslie, watching with amazement, saw the blood slowly disappear into thin air, the gash closing up until all that was left on her wrist was a long pink scar. Madame Pomfrey shook her head as she stared at it, moving on to Harry and doing the same thing to his wrist. She, again, appeared disappointed when she saw the long scar across Harry's wrist too, looking back between Harry's and Leslie's. Leslie was secretly glad for the pain to be gone, but she couldn't help but wonder why Madame Pomfrey looked so distraught.

"What is it, Madame Pomfrey?" McGonagall asked the unspoken question everyone was asking. Madame Pomfrey put the lid on the vial and shook her head.

"I have used this _sanatio_ potion on many cuts and gashes over the years, some deeper than these," she pointed to Harry's and Leslie's wrists. "But never has it been unable to take away the scar. Every time I have used this, there has been absolutely no evidence of injury, but this...this is beyond anything I have ever seen before. I'm sorry, you two, you will have that scar forever."

Leslie glanced up at Harry and looked at his wrist, the wrist that mirrored her own, each with their own pink scar. Leslie knew in that moment that dark magic had touched them, and that kind of magic left a mark. Harry had one on his forehead, and now they each had this, a constant reminder of what had happened tonight, of who gave it to them.

"Alright, you two need to tell me what happened _right_ now! Professor Dumbledore left in a hurry when Sirius Black contacted him and told him you two were in danger. He summoned Professor Lupin and they left. Now, I need to know where they are, and if they are still in trouble. If they are, we need to send help!" McGonagall said, and that was when Leslie remembered how ferociously the Deatheaters were fighting back against Sirius and the others. She swallowed; they were probably still fighting, were they even still alive?

"Graveyard!" Leslie finally found her voice. "They're at a graveyard. I...I don't know where, we...there's a Portkey outside the gates of Hogwarts that goes there, that's how we were brought there. Professor Dumbledore, he and Sirius and Professor Lupin they...they were fighting Deatheaters, loads of them when we...when we escaped." Leslie breathed out and McGonagall immediately stood up.

"I shall gather Professors Wizengamut and Snape, and we will go assist them in the graveyard. Madame Pomfrey, please keep the children here until we return. I hope we shan't be long." McGonagall turned to leave.

"Wait!" Leslie cried out. McGonagall turned and stared at her incredulously.

"What is it, Leslie?" McGonagall inquired, surprised at her granddaughter's outburst.

Leslie breathed in sharply and fought back threatening tears.

"Don't...don't go. What if...what if something happens to you?" She asked, biting her lip. McGonagall shook her head and offered a very small smile.

"Nothing will happen, Leslie, you just be sure and rest while we're gone. When I return, I expect Professor Dumbledore will want to hear what happened before he arrived. I do hope you'll be able to tell him better than what you were able to tell me." She turned to leave. "Rest now, the both of you."

Leslie watched her leave and Madame Pomfrey gave them each a look that told them to heed their Professor's orders, and left herself, leaving Harry, Hermione, Ron and Leslie all alone in the hospital wing. Leslie couldn't help but feel grateful. All she wanted was to be with her friends, tell them what happened, rest in the fact that, if even for only a moment, they were together, and they were safe, at least for now.

"So...what really happened?" Ron asked.

"When you said he's back, Harry, you...you don't really mean..."

Harry sighed and looked at Leslie, who looked back with a small nod.

"Yeah, I do. Voldemort, we saw him. Only this time...this time, he wasn't weak. He's strong again." Harry looked down and shuddered slightly.

"How did you get to the graveyard?" Hermione asked, and Leslie immediately felt herself crying as she remembered Professor Crims standing there, dressed in black and ready to turn them over to Voldemort himself. Leslie continued to cry as Harry relayed the story to their friends, about the map, and thinking it was Sirius, about going out to gate only to find Professor Crims and Lucius Malfoy, ready to jump them. About being held captive in the graveyard, about having their wrists sliced open for their blood to be used for some strange potion that brought Voldemort back, about Sirius showing up because Leslie remembered the ring, and about Crims showing them the Portkey.

Crims a Deatheater, that was all Leslie could think about. It hurt, it hurt more than anything else. After everything that had happened, Crims towel drying Leslie's hair and making her hot cocoa after a late night Quidditch practice, Crims helping her understand some important truths about her friends, Crims wanting to make sure she understood defensive spells, and worse, Crims dropping everything to make Leslie ready for the Mistleball, even buying her a dress. And she was a Deatheater, she'd been placed at Hogwarts as a mole for the dark one. The thought made Leslie want to cry out.

Hermione put a hand on Leslie's shoulder.

"Leslie, I'm so sorry." She said. Leslie unconsciously pulled away and lost it.

"No! That's just not good enough, is it? Don't you understand what she meant to me?" She screamed and began to cry again. Hermione put her hand on Leslie's arm, and she didn't pull away this time. She thought about what she had just said - what _had_ Crims meant to her? She had never really thought about it until now, but now she understood. _Leslie, you never had a mother. Well, I've never had a daughter._ Crims had said the night of the dance. That was it. After fourteen years of never knowing what it was like to have a mother, she had known it, if even just a little, in Professor Crims, and that was why this betrayal hurt more than anything else. It had all been a lie.

The four were silent for a long time, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Professor Crims had betrayed them, betrayed _her_, and now Voldemort was back and his followers were everywhere. There would be more escapes from Azkaban, there would be deaths, there would be danger.

It was all only a matter of time.


	28. The Lustratio Magic

The four friends sat in silence for what seemed like forever. Nobody had anything to say, not after Leslie and Harry told Ron and Hermione about what had happened in the graveyard. All Leslie could do was stare numbly at the scar on her wrist, the one that would forever be a part of her, and Harry. Leslie forced herself not to allow her mind to wander to what could possibly be happening in the graveyard right now. For all she knew, McGonagall was dead, Dumbledore was dead, and Voldemort was on his way with his Deatheaters to Hogwarts right now to finish the job. It made bile rise up in Leslie, and she had to force herself to think of other things.

But what other things? The fact that her favourite teacher, her confidant, a woman who had treated her as she would a daughter turned out to be a Deatheater whose sole purpose was to draw Leslie in. No, it was better for Leslie to void her mind completely. Numbness was best right now, it was her only protection.

Finally, the doors to the hospital wing burst open and Leslie looked up to see Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall striding inside quickly. Leslie let out a sigh of relief and felt a few muscles relaxing.

"What happened?" Harry asked, finding his voice before Leslie could. "Is everybody okay? What about Sirius? Lupin? Wizzie?"

"They are all fine, everyone is fine." Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. Leslie breathed out slowly. "However, the piece of bad news I must report is that the Deatheaters have managed to escape, so unfortunately there will be no arrests made. I also failed to see any sign of Voldemort, however, I did see the cauldron and the potion that brought him back. I am sorry, Harry and Leslie, but I'm afraid you shall have to relay the happenings of tonight to me in great detail, I must know everything."

Leslie sighed, looked to Harry for support, and together, they relayed every detail to Professor Dumbledore, telling him about the false Marauder's Map, about Lucius and Crims waiting out at the gates after they thought they saw Sirius, about the Portkey, about all the Deatheaters in a circle, about their wrists being sliced and needing their blood, _both_ their blood to bring Voldemort back, and then of course, shuddering as they described Voldemort coming back into his body and nearly killing them before Sirius and Lupin arrived with Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was silent for some time, running his thin fingers through his long beard, pondering. Leslie and Harry were silent, waiting. Whizbees, but they were tired, but even as Leslie's eyelids threatened to close, she doubted she would sleep tonight, nor any night in the near future for that matter.

"I am trying to understand this, so I ask for your patience. You say he needed _both_ of your blood to come back?" Dumbledore asked. Leslie nodded and Harry spoke.

"Yes, Professor. He said that sometime last year, my blood alone would have been enough, but then, I dunno, he said something about me playing the hero or-"

"_Lustratio!" _Leslie exclaimed, remembering what Voldemort had said. "Voldemort said Harry passed on the _Lustratio Magic_ to me and that's why he needed both of our blood."

She was surprised by Dumbledore's reaction. He stared at her, dumbfounded, obviously surprised by this turn of events. He leaned forward.

"Leslie, did you say _Lustratio Magic?"_ He asked. Leslie swallowed.

"Yes."

"Are you sure that's what Voldemort said?"

"Yes." Leslie swallowed.

"Why, Professor? What is it, exactly, this sort of magic?" Harry asked, just as curious as Leslie was.

Dumbledore took in a breath and began to explain.

"Oh, it is a very old sort of magic, Harry. Old, but very powerful. You see, if I'm not mistaken, Harry, on the night Voldemort killed your parents, you are aware he also attempted to kill you, but he was unable to, and thus, you received that scar on your forehead. That magic that kept him from killing you that night is the very magic that he would require to be brought back to his body." He said as slowly as possible, so as to be clear. Harry puckered his brow.

"What magic?" He asked.

"The _Lustratio_ _Magic_ is purification by sacrifice. You see, Harry, on the night Voldemort came to kill your parents, your mother stood in between the Dark Lord and you, to try and save your life. She sacrificed her own life for yours, and that sort of sacrifice leaves a mark, Harry, a mark of love in your very veins. That is why Voldemort couldn't kill you on that night. That is what made him weak, Harry. That's what sent him into hiding. But you see, if one knows the right spell, that very same magic that weakened him could also be used to strengthen him." Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his temples fiercely. "Alas, I should have seen it coming."

Leslie puckered her brow.

"Professor, I understand what you're saying, but...what does any of this have to do with...with me? I can see why Voldemort would have needed Harry's blood, because of what happened that night, but why me? Voldemort said he needed both our bloods for it to work." She pointed out.

"Ah yes, Leslie, he did indeed need both your blood, for it only makes sense, doesn't it? The sacrificial love that was given unto Harry 13 years ago was transferred last year. You see, on that night on the Isle of the Black Fog, Leslie, you were in grave danger, close to death yourself, and it was Harry who dropped his own wand and willingly stepped in, ready to sacrifice his own life simply so Bellatrix would stop torturing you. In that very moment, a magical transference took place, I suppose, but of course, neither of you realized it. You couldn't, but the same love that Lily passed on through to Harry the night she sacrificed herself for her son was passed through to Leslie that night Harry was ready to sacrifice himself. And _that_ is precisely why Voldemort needed both of your blood. The _Lustratio Magic_ that sent Voldemort into hiding 13 years ago was no longer contained in one vessel, but two. That mark Harry has from his mother is now shared with you, Leslie. Together, you have the _Lustratio Magic._" Dumbledore took in a breath. "Voldemort must have figured that out, somehow. He knew it wouldn't work without both of you."

"But Professor...does...does that mean that Voldemort won't be able to kill us? I mean, he wasn't able to kill Harry all those years ago because of that mark. Does that mean we're safe from him?" Leslie wanted to know.

"I'm afraid not, dear child, for you see, that same magic is now a part of him, now that he has used it to regain his strength. He is immune to this deep magic now, and consequently, he _can_ kill you. I am sorry." Dumbledore replied.

Leslie breathed out, trying to take it all in. It hadn't been just Leslie the Deatheaters had been after all year, it was both of them. What Harry had done last year, risked his neck for her safety, it had connected them in a way they had never even realized. Leslie knew she would never fully comprehend what the _Lustratio Magic_ was, or what it had done, but she knew one thing was for sure, it wasn't just the scars on their wrist that Leslie and Harry shared now, it ran deeper than that, now.

Professor Dumbledore thanked them for their testimony and left the hospital wing, claiming there were errands that had to be done. Professor McGonagall took a seat on the edge of Leslie's bed and breathed out, shaking her head as she stared at her granddaughter.

"You just can't manage to stay out of trouble, can you?" She asked, and Leslie knew, even though she wasn't smiling, that her grandmother was making a joke. Leslie smiled just a little and shook her head.

"I suppose not." She paused. "Professor, you...you went to the graveyard, right?"

McGonagall nodded.

Leslie bit her lip.

"Did...did you see Professor Crims there?" She asked, and felt her heart drop when McGonagall's entire demeanor change.

"Oh yes, she was there, alright! Curse her, the very nerve of it all! Staging as a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor for the sole purpose of luring _my_ granddaughter and her friend! Imagine! A _Deatheater _at Hogwarts. The very thought of it turns my stomach, you know. Honestly, this whole situation is mind-boggling." She breathed out. "I suppose we shall have to better screen our staff in the future."

"So...did she escape with the other Deatheaters? Or is she dead?" Leslie asked, never getting a straight answer out of her grandmother.

"No, she isn't dead, but that fate would have been better for her, because if I ever get my hands on her...well, anyhow, yes, she did manage to get away with the other Deatheaters, all the same." McGonagall looked up at the grandfather clock. "It is late, and I expect the lot of you are tired. Madame Pomfrey has said you are fit well enough to sleep in your own dormitories tonight. I expect you will be more comfortable in your own beds. Rest well, children, for you've had a rough night." And with that, Professor McGonagall rested a hand on Leslie's shoulder and offered a small smile. As Ron, Hermione, Harry and Leslie left the hospital wing that night, Leslie knew her grandmother had been gravely worried at Leslie's absence, and greatly disturbed by the news of all that had happened at the graveyard. Even though McGonagall was not terrific at showing it, Leslie knew, with every ounce of her being, that she was loved dearly by her grandmother.

"Er, Leslie, why did you ask Professor McGonagall about Crims, anyway?" Ron asked as the four friends walked quietly through the corridors toward the Gryffindor Common Room. Leslie glanced sideways, temporarily distracted.

"What?" She asked.

"It's just, it seems weird, you know, that you would want to know if she was alive or dead, I mean, after she betrayed you and everything." Ron elaborated. "Why do you even care what happened to her?"

Leslie sighed.

"I dunno, Ron." She admitted honestly, as they turned a corner. "It's just...something's not right. Crims is a Deatheater, that much was clear when she brought us to the graveyard, but then...why would she point us to the Portkey? Why would she show us how to escape? And when Voldemort told them to kill us, she...she wouldn't let me go, not right away. She said that was never part of the plan. Why would she try to stop it if she was really a Deatheater?" She fingered the scar on her wrist again. "It just doesn't add up."

Nobody had a real answer for her, it was a mystery beyond all of them. All they could do was continue to walk in silence toward their Common Room, together.

Upon arrival in the Gryffindor Common Room, it was mutually decided that nobody really wanted to sleep apart, not after everything that had happened that evening in the graveyard. Fear was running wildly through them, and they decided to all bring their blankets down to the Common Room and sleep by the fire.

After the four friends donned their pajamas and were settled by the fire, they found sleep was not easy to find. They laid there silently, hearing nothing but the movement of the fire, each absorbed in his or her own thoughts and fears. They were so distracted, they hardly even heard the unusual crackling sound coming from the fire. It was Harry who caught on, and gazed toward the fire, only to jump back in surprise, for there in front of him was a human head floating above the fire. It was Sirius!

"Sirius!" Harry exclaimed, and the other three immediately turned and saw the shape of Sirius' head in the fireplace. Hermione immediately recognized this as a means of communication in the wizarding world, but nobody else even cared, they were only glad to see Sirius.

"Sirius! I'm so glad you're alright!" Leslie exclaimed, trying to wrap her head around the fact that Sirius was in the fireplace. "What happened at the graveyard? Professor Dumbledore was a little skiddish with the details."

"Well, I must say, those Deatheaters put up quite the fight, they did. Lupin went down and I was close to losing a battle with Lestrange, but thankfully that was when McGonagall showed up with Snape and Wizengamut. With more numbers, we were able to chase the lot of them off. It didn't take long before they Apparated out of the graveyard, right before the Ministry showed up, so unfortunately, nobody was caught. No Deatheater present tonight will be going to Azkaban." He paused, letting it all sink in, but he shook his head. "Nevermind them, Leslie, what's important is that you two are _safe!_ There is no price on your lives."

Leslie shook her head.

"Yes, but he's back, _Voldemort_ is back!" She swallowed. "Did...did you see him, Sirius? He's got his body back, and his strength back now. Because of us. It's going to be like it was before, when he was in power last time, isn't it?"

Sirius didn't answer her, he only looked sorrowful for a moment and Leslie knew she was right, and everyone in the wizarding world would know it. There was no denying it now.

"You can't blame yourselves, Harry, Leslie." He looked down at their wrists, noticing the scar. He sighed. "He used the _Lustratio Magic_, I'm told?"

Leslie and Harry simply nodded, staring at the floor silently.

"Well, we shan't worry ourselves over it now. What's done is done and what's most important tonight is that you two are safe and sound. Mind you, I'd recommend the four of you keep those rings. They've already come in handy once, haven't they? I expect they'll be of use in the future as well." Sirius said, eyeing Ron, who turned pink, suddenly ashamed he had been the one who wanted nothing to do with the rings.

Leslie swallowed, holding back tears as she managed a very small smile for Sirius.

"Thank you, Sirius. Thank you for saving our lives tonight." She said meekly. Harry nodded his agreement and Sirius' fire shape shrugged.

"It was my pleasure, my dear, and may it be said, it was the least I could do, after all. Because of you, my name was cleared and I was freed from Azkaban. I suppose you could say we're even now." He winked and with no more to say, his figure vanished into the logs below.

* * *

It wasn't long until Ron and Hermione drifted off into a fitful sleep, but Harry and Leslie were still awake, thoughts reeling through the events of the night. Leslie couldn't help but wonder if she would ever sleep properly again. The nightmares that continued for nights on end after the dreaded trip into Hogsmeade would pale in comparison to the ones that would come after tonight, and for that reason alone was Leslie terrified to even allow her eyelids to droop.

Harry and Leslie stayed awake into the night, both silent and resigned, unable to even find the right words to say to one another. It was funny how an shared experience could be so difficult to talk about. No, it didn't make sense, but then, Leslie thought, nothing about tonight did.

Finally, Harry spoke up out of the silence, in only a whisper.

"Were you scared?" He asked quietly. Leslie immediately felt tears piercing her eyes, threatening to spill over and she bit her lip as she nodded.

"Yes, were you?"

"Yes." Harry replied after a moment's hesitation.

Silence ensued once again until Leslie spoke up again.

"It's strange, Harry." She mumbled. "I know it doesn't make any sense, but I think tonight...I think I was more upset by what Crims did to us...to me, than I was of being afraid to die. I...I know that's stupid and it doesn't make any sense, but...after everything she'd done for me, after everything she'd _said_ to me, I...I don't know, I was almost beginning to think of her...as...as..."

"As a mum."

Leslie was shocked at Harry, but then, she wasn't. He had nailed it, right on the head. Yes, that was what Leslie had meant, but felt ashamed to admit. But why had she? Harry understood, he could see it just as clearly as she could. He would always understand that empty void inside of her, and how desperate you felt at times when you felt like you could never fill it. It was something Leslie knew she would never be able to explain to anybody else, not in a way that would make sense. It kindled her heart to know there would always be someone who understood how deep that pain could go.

Leslie sighed and looked down.

"Oh well," she breathed out. "I suppose that kind of stuff just doesn't happen. If you aren't born with good parents, and you grow up without them, well, I suppose that's the way you'll always be stuck."

"I guess that's something we'll always have in common then." Harry pointed out. Leslie looked up and stared at him for a moment, his haggard eyes, his pale face, his thin lips. It was like she was looking at Harry in a new way.

"We have more in common now then we ever did before, Harry." She swallowed. "I mean, sometimes it's weird how much we've had in common over the years, but now, Harry it goes so much deeper than that."

She fingered her scar and then gently touched Harry's.

"Now this." She paused. "I don't care, though. Even though Voldemort is back, Harry, I'm still thankful for what you did for me that night on the Isle of the Black Fog. I haven't forgotten it, nor will I ever. You saved my life."

She smiled sadly at him and before she knew it, Harry's hand was on top of hers and he smiled back.

"You're one of my closest friends, Leslie. I promise, as long as I'm alive, I'll do my best to stand in the way of anyone or anything that tries to hurt you."

Leslie smiled, and began to feel safe for the first time since they arrived back from the graveyard. There was no more need for words, as they rested their heads on their pillows. Their friendship was deeper than any words that needed to be said in that moment. They would never part, not anymore, not for everything they shared.

And it was in that knowledge and assurance that Leslie and Harry were finally able to fall asleep.


	29. Mrs Granger

Leslie slept late into the morning - Hermione allowed her to, knowing full well they were missing double Potions, but Professor McGonagall had sent an owl to the four children early that morning, excusing the four of them from classes for the day. Hermione was secretly grateful to McGonagall; even though Hermione and Ron hadn't been through the terrible ordeal at the graveyard, McGonagall understood how important it was for Leslie and Harry to have their friends with them when they awoke and had to deal with those memories again.

Hermione sighed as she reclined in the armchair by the fire, watching Leslie, who was still fast asleep on the floor. She wanted to wake her, there was something important to tell her, but Leslie probably hadn't fallen asleep until late the night before - she would need her sleep.

Hermione simply read through her History of Magic textbook in preparation for exams that were still a few months off and waited until Leslie finally stirred.

The first thing Leslie felt was the hot sun beating through the stained glass windows onto her face. She smiled to herself - the rain must have ceased in the night, thank goodness. It was just a small ray of sunshine in her life, especially after last night. At least it was something.

She stretched herself out, let out a small yawn and slowly opened her eyes, squinting as the sun blinded her. She sat up, and looked around the common room, seeing three sets of blankets strewn about with nobody in them, and she looked up and saw Hermione sitting in the armchair, staring at Leslie very seriously. Leslie's heart stopped.

"What?" She asked in a panic, standing up and looking at the empty blankets. Oh Whizbees, where were the boys? "What happened? What's wrong? Where are Ron and Harry?" Had Voldemort come in the night and taken Harry, killed Ron? How could she have slept through it all? She felt tears welling in her eyes.

Hermione stood immediately and placed her book down.

"They're fine, they went to play Quidditch. Harry needed to take his mind off things." She paused. "Everything's fine but...well, you've got to come with me somewhere."

Leslie puckered her brow.

"Where?" She asked.

"Just trust me," Hermione swallowed. "And please don't kill me."

Leslie's curiosity had definitely been sparked, and she couldn't help but feel worried as she quickly dressed herself and brushed her hair. What could possibly be so important, and yet make Hermione think Leslie would be mad?

As Leslie descended the dormitory staircase into the common room, her fingers unconsciously touched the scar on her wrist. Last night seemed like such a blur now, and yet, the images were still so fresh in her mind. She wondered if she would ever be able to live her life without the shadow of fear anymore.

Leslie followed Hermione through the corridors and Leslie couldn't help but feel as though she were walking on air. Nothing felt real, it all felt so numb. As she remembered the previous night, she couldn't believe it had actually happened, but it _had!_ She could tell students had already begun to learn the truth, eyes followed her through the corridors, and it only made her feel worse. She kept her eyes ahead, following Hermione, trying to block out the evil image of Voldemort's red eyes that were burning inside of her memory.

Hermione led Leslie out into the castle's courtyard, and Leslie was immediately thankful it had warmed up, and the rain was gone. The grass was slightly damp and it was still muddy, but at least there was sun.

But she quickly forgot the warmth, and the glimmer of happiness it had brought, because Leslie saw right away the reason why Hermione had to bring her here, and the reason why she thought Leslie would be mad. There, sitting at a picnic table in the middle of the courtyard sat Mrs. Granger, playing with a loose piece of wood.

Leslie spun round and faced Hermione quickly, causing Hermione to jump a little. Leslie noticed there were tears in Hermione's eyes. Leslie didn't care.

"What is she doing here?" She hissed in a low whisper. Hermione bit her lip but stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated by Leslie, refusing to allow her to be angry.

"I woke up early this morning and wrote to my mum by owl. I needed to tell her what happened to you last night. You have no idea how worried I was last night and, well, I wrote my mum last night when we found out you were missing too." Hermione paused and looked over Leslie's shoulder at Mrs. Granger, who had now spotted the girls, but waited patiently. Hermione continued. "As soon as my mum got my owl this morning, she contacted Professor McGonagall and asked to come to the castle as soon as possible. She wanted to see you. McGonagall nearly said no, especially because it's highly irregular and even against the rules to allow a Muggle into Hogwarts during the actual school term, but she allowed it. Mum arrived by Floo Network this morning and has been waiting here."

Leslie didn't know what to say - she was fuming inside, fear was gnawing at her, anxieties and sadness and tension were brewing inside of her as she stared at Hermione with tears forming, but she forced them away. Why was this happening? Why now? After everything that had happened last night, the very _last_ thing she wanted was for Mrs. Granger to be here.

Hermione waited for a moment, waited for Leslie to say something, but her silence was enough. Hermione sighed.

"Look, I know you're upset and I know you don't want anything to do with her, and I know you're probably right ticked at me, but...will you at least _talk_ to her? She's been worried out of her skull about you _all_ year, and you haven't responded to any of her letters or anything. You didn't come home at Christmas, and now she's _really_ worried because of what happened last night, so would you _please_ just go talk to her?" She pleaded. Leslie breathed out through her nose and clenched her teeth as she stared at Hermione, ready to fight her, ready to say no, and walk away. But she saw how much this was killing Hermione and that stung Leslie. Not to mention the fact that if Leslie simply walked away, her grandmother would kill her after all she had gone through to get a Muggle into Hogwarts' grounds at this time of the year.

Hoping she could simply play a cold shoulder and get it over with quickly and painlessly, Leslie finally consented and turned from Hermione, numbing herself, pretending like she didn't care about anything. She noticed Hermione wasn't following - she didn't think she would. Clearly, Mrs. Granger had wanted it to be just the two of them.

Leslie approached Mrs. Granger slowly, who didn't stand up, she simply watched Leslie approaching as though she were seeing her for the first time. Leslie tried to keep her tears down, she had to shut herself off.

Mrs. Granger managed a small smile when Leslie approached the picnic table. Leslie didn't smile back.

Leslie sat down at the picnic table, leaving a space between her and Mrs. Granger. She looked down at the ground while Mrs. Granger looked her over. Hermione had told her everything about what had happened last night - no doubt, she was looking for physical evidence of pain. What she didn't realize was that the deepest scars were on the inside.

"Hi, Leslie." Mrs. Granger said carefully, and paused. "Are you alright?"

Leslie breathed out, she hated that question, of _course_ she wasn't alright, after everything that had happened last night, how could she be alright?

"I think so." She managed, still looking at the ground, observing a small ant that was crawling across the cobblestone.

Mrs. Granger was silent for a couple of moments, no doubt struggling with how to talk to the girl who had ignored her all year, distanced herself for unknown reasons. A part of Leslie felt bad, but she pushed it aside, her feelings were too strong, too painful.

"Hermione told me what happened last night." Mrs. Granger said after a short window of silence. Leslie had nothing to say to this, so she simply nodded, her eyes still stubbornly fixed on the ant.

There was another dreadfully painful silence and then Mrs. Granger smiled a little, looking around the courtyard.

"You know, I've never been here. All these years, you girls have been coming here to school, and I've only had my imagination to look to. Yes, you've both told me so much about it, but I suppose there's something about actually experiencing it to understand it. It truly is remarkable, beautiful." She said. Leslie felt anger welling up inside of her - had Mrs. Granger come here to talk about the school's architecture?

"What are you doing here, Mrs. Granger?" Leslie asked cooly, looking up for only a moment to glare at Mrs. Granger, who had turned to look back at Leslie, who quickly recoiled her gaze. Mrs. Granger looked hurt, and Leslie didn't want to see it.

"Leslie, I can't believe you're actually asking me that question." She said, her voice quavering ever so slightly - Leslie could tell she was on the brink of tears. She bit her lip. "After everything that's been going on with you this year, shutting yourself down, closing yourself off, and _now_, nearly being _killed_ last night? How could I _not_ be here?"

Leslie bit her lip, she didn't want to hear this, no, she didn't want to hear this, maybe she could pretend like she couldn't hear her, maybe she could block it out. No, she didn't want to deal with this, not now, not _now!_

"Leslie, I care about you like _mad!_ Can't you see that? I don't know why, but for some reason or another, you seem to have forgotten how much I care about you. You haven't written, you've refused to speak to us, you didn't even come at Christmas, and it was all planned that you would, and we missed you terribly." Mrs. Granger sighed. "I've asked Hermione a dozen times what's been going on, why you've been so secretive, but she swears she doesn't know. Perhaps you've sworn her to secrecy-"

"Hermione never knew." Leslie blurted out, wanting nothing more than to protect her best friend from seeming as though she were lying to her parents. It didn't matter how mad she was at Hermione for bringing her here, she couldn't make her look bad.

Mrs. Granger was silent for a moment after that, wringing her hands together and sneaking a glance over at the girl who wouldn't look her in the eye, who was so far detached from her, the woman didn't even know how to reach out to her anymore. It was painful, but she wouldn't give up.

"Then help me to understand why, Leslie. Help me to understand why you've shut us out of your life." She said in a quiet voice, a caring voice, a genuine voice. It hurt Leslie to her very core to hear it and she immediately shook her head, not wanting the outpour of emotions to win over her.

"I can't do this right now, I have exams to study for, I should be in class right now." Leslie stood to leave, ready to run away, ready to ignore her pain once again. She thought she could just numb herself from the pain, but hearing Mrs. Granger speak, hearing her talk about Leslie in this way was too much, she couldn't handle it.

She began to walk away, feeling tears threatening, but Mrs. Granger wasn't about to just let Leslie walk away. She stood up quickly and gently took hold of Leslie's arm, pulling her around to face her again. Mrs. Granger simply shook her head as she clung hard to Leslie's arms.

"I will not let you go this time, Leslie." She said sternly but gently. "Not until you tell me what's going on inside your little heart."

Leslie felt it brewing in the pit of her stomach. No, she could still be strong, she could still pretend. She shook her head.

"I don't-"

"Leslie, you can't just go through big things alone." Mrs. Granger said, staring into the teenager's eyes.

That was it. That brewing inside of Leslie viciously escaped and she pulled away from Mrs. Granger violently.

"Alone? _Alone?_ I've been alone my entire life! My life has been nothing but disappointment after disappointment and when I was with you and Mr. Granger and Hermione, I just...I just...I couldn't _stand_ to be around it any longer! It drove me mad! Do you have any idea what that _did_ to me?" Leslie was screaming loudly. "The constant reminder of what I never had, what I _never_ had and never _could_ have standing right in front of me every single day! Beautiful family photographs in every room, memories of a happy family _everywhere_! It was always nothing but a reminder of the life I missed out on and want so _badly_ but can never have!" Leslie began to sob loudly, but she wouldn't let Mrs. Granger touch her, and she continued to yell.

"All I wanted to do was forget it, forget that I was ignored and hated and pushed aside like I was nothing but a piece of garbage by my parents! But how could I forget with _you_ around all the time?" Leslie wiped her eyes of her bitter tears, but they were quickly replaced with more. "Hermione's so lucky to have a mum and dad, Whizbees, _everyone_ is and...and...I...just...just couldn't...stand it anymore!"

Leslie took a breath and trembled as she realized what had just come out of her mouth. Mrs. Granger was silent, she just waited. Leslie shook her head and turned away.

"All these years, I've done nothing more than try and ignore the pain, pretend like it didn't matter, like it didn't bother me. I thought I was doing fairly well, but this summer, whenever you said something nice to Hermione, or hugged her, or brought up a memory or something, I felt...I felt like I was falling apart inside. It hurt me so much to watch, it hurt me so much to be excluded, to know I can never have that!" She began to cry again, and raised her voice. "I didn't need to be reminded of it! I had to stay away from it! It was the only thing I could do to keep me from falling apart!"

It wasn't long before Leslie felt a hand on her arm, and Leslie instinctively pulled away, but Mrs. Granger wasn't giving up. She gently took hold of Leslie's arm a second time, and, when Leslie didn't pull away, Mrs. Granger turned her to face her.

"Alright," she said with a small smile. "Now it's my turn."

She eased Leslie to sit down on the bench, and Mrs. Granger knelt down in front of her, looking up at the young girl with tears glazing her own eyes. It was so much to take in, so painful to hear all about the pain this poor girl was feeling, keeping to herself, but she had to have her say in this - Leslie meant too much to her to just let it go.

"Leslie, I understand you've been hurt, far more than any other child I've ever known, apart from Harry, of course. Sweetheart, you have every right to be upset and angry because of what your parents couldn't do for you, _haven't_ done for you. It was unfair to you, to feel ignored and unimportant; no child should_ ever_ have to go through what you have been through. But Leslie, that _doesn't_ mean you haven't got a family. Oh, I know it feels as though you're all alone in this world because you haven't got a mum and dad, but you have your grandmother! Leslie, she cares about you a great deal, no matter _how_ odd of a way she shows it. And, more than that..." Mrs. Granger had tears sparkling in her eyes as she stared up at Leslie, who wouldn't return her gaze. "Leslie, when Professor McGonagall contacted me at the end of yours and Hermione's first year at Hogwarts and told me she was looking for a home for you, I will admit, I didn't know what would happen. I'd never met you, and I'd heard so many wonderful things about you from Hermione, but I didn't know what to expect. But Leslie, darling, we just fell in _love_ with you! Sweetheart, we have never thought of you as anything less than our own daughter, a _second_ daughter."

She waited, unsure of how Leslie would react. The girl's body went rigid, and she clasped her hands together tightly as she finally moved her eyes over and met Mrs. Granger's. Mrs. Granger nearly cried out, because the teenager had fresh tears in her eyes, but she stared at Mrs. Granger as though she were hearing something for the first time, something she hadn't seen, something she had missed, something she needed to hear. Mrs. Granger continued.

"Oh Leslie, I know we have no blood relations, but that has _never_ mattered to me. Somewhere over the course of that first summer, you became our daughter, whether or not you or I realized it. It just happened, it was natural. Oh Leslie, it's not about biology or blood, it's about who loves you, _deeply_ loves you and we love you so very much, _I_ love you, Leslie. You are a part of this family, Leslie Perks, _my_ daughter, and you can't ever take that away from me." She began to cry a little. "That's why this year has been so hard, because you've been so far away from us, but not just geographically speaking. I tried so hard to understand why you went so deeply into hiding, not wanting to write, not wanting to come home for Christmas, ignoring us at your birthday party. I tried to have Hermione figure it out, but you wouldn't even talk to her. Oh Leslie, I've missed you and been so worried about you, but I just felt so helpless."

Leslie didn't say anything for a moment or two, she just listened to Mrs. Granger and what she was saying, she saw the tears glimmering in her eyes, and the expression on her face. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, it went to her very heart. Suddenly, all the anger was melting, all the bitterness was crashing down around her, her insecurities and uncertainties were becoming mere shadows as she saw truth in what Mrs. Granger was saying. She bit her lip to keep from crying, but she finally broke the silence, feeling herself trembling, her voice quavering.

"You...you think of me...as a daughter?" She said quietly, unsure, feeling as though it were too good to be true. It couldn't be, not after all the horrible things she'd done to avoid them, it couldn't be true.

Mrs. Granger simply smiled and nodded.

"Yes, Leslie, I do." She reached out and took hold of the necklace Leslie was wearing around her neck, the one the Granger's had sent her for Christmas, the one Leslie only wore to keep Hermione from asking questions. "That's what the necklace means. This symbol, it's the Japanese symbol for 'daughter.' I knew you wouldn't know what it meant, unless you asked, but...well, I suppose I'd hoped that by Christmas, you would have been feeling a little better."

Leslie burst into tears as Mrs. Granger's hand fell onto Leslie's hands, and grasped them in her own, glad when Leslie didn't pull away.

Leslie's tears continued for a moment before she finally shook her head and stared at Mrs. Granger.

"I'm...I'm so sorry. I've been so horrible, so cruel, I...I just...I'm sorry, I-" Leslie choked on her sobs, but Mrs. Granger stood up and, placing her fingers under Leslie's chin, forced her to look up at her.

"Leslie, sweetheart, it's alright to go through things, but_ never_ alone. You've had enough of that in your short life. And remember," Mrs. Granger took a seat beside Leslie. "There is _always_ family."

It took her a moment, but Leslie finally leaned forward and the two embraced, and remained unmoving for quite some time, Leslie sobbing, and Mrs. Granger consoling the young girl, finally able to provide the comfort that she had so desperately wanted to give for the entire school year.


	30. Each Other

With Professor Crims' absence from the castle, due to her involvement as a Deatheater, the next three months of Defence Against the Dark Arts were taught by Nearly Headless Nick, the ghoul who lived in the Gryffindor tower. At first, the kids, Ron especially, thought having Nearly Headless Nick teach a class would be exciting and full of good times, but they soon learned, within that first week back, that Defence Against the Dark Arts became nearly as boring as History of Magic with Professor Binns, who slept through most of his classes. Nearly Headless Nick took it upon himself to use the allotted class time to bore the students with endless stories about his glory days as a rider before he was killed. Leslie and her friends tried to remain attentive and respectful, but they had stopped learning about defensive spells, but it wasn't anybody's fault; they couldn't find anyone else on such short notice who wanted to teach that position. Leslie had asked Professor McGonagall why Dumbledore hadn't done it as he had during their first year after Quirrel had gone sour, but McGonagall simply claimed he was "far too busy to be teaching classes." Thus, they had no choice but to endure the boredom that used to be their favorite class. Hermione tried to encourage them by pointing out that Crims had been teaching them at a higher level than where they ought to be, and so, they were ahead and wouldn't have to worry about their exams, but Crims was the last person any of them really wanted to think about. Ron couldn't help but wonder some nights if they would ever be able to hold down a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, as they hadn't had any consistency since their arrival four years prior.

At least Quidditch kept Harry and Leslie in high spirits, for the most part. Even the long, hard practices implemented by Angelina were no trouble, because they were able to fly, and play, and it was a momentary distraction from the truth of what had happened to them that night in March. Quidditch was their escape, and the one place where nobody asked. Rumours had already circulated through the school about that night, and though nobody really knew the entire story, bits and pieces had leaked through, and nobody seemed to know how to ask, but still, at least on the Quidditch pitch, the priority was Quidditch, not about Voldemort's return. True, their first two games after that night had gone sour. Gryffindor lost against Slytherin and Hufflepuff, but their next win against Ravenclaw still managed to get them into the playoffs and a few hard games and a few close wins ended up making Gryffindor the champions and the takers of the Hogwarts' Quidditch Cup, which was now displayed in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was a victory Harry and Leslie enjoyed every moment of, and a small piece of happiness that leaked through into the darkness that had become their lives.

As the months inched slowly by, Gryffindor slowly began to rack up their house points, and, despite all the detentions and points that had been taken by Snape at the beginning of the year, Gryffindor still managed to take the House Cup as well, which was a great surprise to every student, Gryffindor or not. Leslie had been certain that Slytherin would have taken it, thanks to Snape, but as Dumbledore announced the winners that last night in the Great Hall, Leslie stole a glance at Professor Wizzie and couldn't help but get the feeling she had something to do with their sudden leap to first place. Hermione confirmed it to her later. It turned out Hermione had overheard from the prefects that Wizzie had been quite sour at Snape for taking points from Gryffindor every chance he got, so she took it upon herself to be more diligent in taking points from Slytherin, which ended up evening out the scores. Leslie smiled - she guessed it was worth it to have friends in high places. She couldn't help but wonder if Snape knew Wizzie had been doing so behind his back. The two were still going together, and they hardly seemed as if they had ever had a row in the first place. Leslie still couldn't understand what Wizzie saw in that man, nor did she think she _ever_ would. Well, it didn't matter. Wizzie was happy, and that was all that mattered.

In the middle of May, Leslie and her friends were able to go to Hogsmeade for their third and final field trip. Of course, there had been a lot of nervous apprehension about going, especially after their last trip, but Sirius had promised to meet them, and not leave their side until they were safely on their way back to the school. Of course, Hogwarts had tripled their security in taking the students to the wizarding town, but still, Leslie had vivid memories of their December trip. Still, she cheered up a little at the prospect of Sirius' invitation. He invited all four of them to his flat in the country for the last two weeks of August before school commenced, and promised them all a good time. Harry seemed the most excited, even though he wanted nothing more to spend the whole summer with Sirius. Dumbledore and Sirius had been talking and had decided Harry needed to stay at the Dursley's, but nobody would tell him why. Leslie hated that - sometimes, they were treated like such _kids._

At least final exams had gone well, at least for Leslie. She knew Ron hadn't cared an ounce about his marks, and nor had Harry, not really, but Hermione was a in right panic as the days grew closer to exams. Leslie studied with ease, sometimes wondering if it really even mattered. With Voldemort running loose, how could she be sure there would even _be_ a Hogwarts next term? The thought sickened her. Hogwarts was her home, where would she be if it ceased to exist?

Still, she breezed through all of her exams in a cinch, _even_ Transfiguration, her worst subject. Though she hadn't seen any of her marks yet, she knew she'd done well, especially judging by the smile on her grandmother's face when she handed in her Transfiguration parchment.

Despite the good things that were happening around Hogwarts, there was no denying what had gone down in the graveyard that night in March. Small reminders kept popping up, especially the lack of information the Daily Prophet was releasing. Of course, that night in the graveyard had been reported to the Ministry of Magic immediately, but there had been no reports released whatsoever, in the Daily Prophet or otherwise. Hermione guessed the Ministry was hesitant to admit the return of Voldemort, not wanting to cause a panic. Leslie and her friends couldn't help but feel angered by this. Panic or not, people needed to know. Life was going to be different, danger was going to pop up everywhere, Deatheaters would escape from Azkaban, people would be killed, or rallied to the dark side, all in a matter of time, and the Ministry wanted nothing more than to keep it hushed. It made Leslie see red. Besides, it was just a matter of time before people began to put the pieces together themselves. How long did they honestly think they could keep something of this magnitude a secret?

One of her main comforts those days were the constant letters she'd been writing back and forth to the Grangers. Ever since Mrs. Granger came to the school in March, things had been different, better than they'd ever been. Hermione was happier than ever, feeling tremendous relief in knowing there was no more tension between her mother and best friend. Leslie was always glad to receive Mrs. Granger's letters, always filled with photographs of the pool construction, her and her husband, and the new decorations they had done for the girls' bedroom, which they would get to see when they came back home. Leslie sent photographs as well, of her and Harry holding the Quidditch Cup, snapshots of their last trip into Hogsmeade and even the recent celebration that occurred upon winning the House Cup. Mrs. Granger received all of Leslie's letters with great thankfulness and a huge grin. The Leslie she knew was back.

But not fully. Something had changed inside of Leslie this year, and it wasn't anything she could put into words, but all the feelings she had toward the Grangers, and the danger she had encountered all year, ending with nearly losing her life in a graveyard under the eye of Voldemort herself, well, she wasn't the same Leslie who came to Hogwarts in August. A part of her had died, and she knew things would be different.

* * *

It was a Saturday, the last day. The great feast was the prior night, and the Gryffindors had partied into the early hours of the morning, but now it was just after noon, and Leslie was in her dormitory, packing up the last of her trunk. The carriages would soon take her and her friends to Hogsmeade where they would board the Hogwarts Express and go home for the summer. Leslie couldn't help but begrudge the fact that the school year was over. She couldn't help but worry about certain things. Would her and Hermione be safe in London? Would Harry be safe at the Dursleys? Ron at the Burrow? Was Hogwarts really the only place they could be safe? Would _anyone_ truly be safe again?

The last of her things were packed, except a small bag that was under her bed. Leslie bent down on hand and knee to reach for it, and as she pulled it out, she realized it was a pink gift bag, filled with presents she had received this year, ones she had forgotten about.

As she picked it up and shoved it in her trunk, some things fell from the bag and hit the floor with a thud. Sighing, Leslie turned to pick them up and stopped, feeling her throat closing up.

The first thing she noticed was the snow globe Professor Crims had given her, and the second was the photograph of Leslie at the MistleBall that Crims had framed for her.

Swallowing, Leslie picked them up and looked at the castle model on the inside, and the beaming rays that shone down on it, reflecting the weather on the outside of the real castle. She stared at the image of herself as someone Crims had once referred to as a _natural beauty._

Momentarily, Leslie felt angered by it, by Crims, by _everything_. How could she? How could she, after everything she'd done, turn out to be a Deatheater, and worse, a _mole_? Leslie very nearly threw the globe and picture in the trash bin, never wanting to lay her eyes upon these treasures, ever again.

But she couldn't.

Was it authentic? Leslie would never know. Did Crims mean anything she had said this year? Leslie would never know the truth, how could she? But still, there was once a time when Leslie needed someone to take her in out of the cold and towel dry her hair, make her hot cocoa and wrap her in a blanket. There was once a time when Leslie needed someone to talk sense into her, to make her feel safe, to comfort her. Did it matter that Crims turned out to be a Deatheater? Yes, it mattered very much, but Leslie couldn't deny what Crims had done for her this year. Because of Crims, she found the confidence to go to the MistleBall, which was more fun than she'd ever imagined. Because of Crims, Leslie was able to realize how Harry felt about Leslie being a target of Voldemort. Because of Crims, Leslie was able to feel, if just for a moment, what it was like to have a bit of a mum.

So Leslie kept the treasures, burying them in her trunk, unsure of how she felt, but knowing she ought to keep them. There was something fishy about Crims, but it didn't matter, not right now. She wasn't alone anymore; Mrs. Granger was waiting at home, waiting to welcome her home as her second daughter. That was enough for Leslie.

Leslie left her trunk in her room with Jinxie, which were all meant to be picked up and brought to the train. Leslie ran outside where she found her three friends waiting patiently for the carriages to arrive.

"All I'm saying is if you just give me a summer of practice, I'll kick your butt at Quidditch when we're at Sirius' flat." Ron was saying to Harry. Hermione was rolling her eyes.

"Sure Ron, whatever you say." Harry laughed. Leslie smiled, but she couldn't help but feel a little sad. After the train arrived in London, the four friends would go their separate ways for two months. The thought broke Leslie's heart.

"Leslie, did you remember to say goodbye to your grandmother?" Hermione whispered. Leslie cleared her mind again and managed a nod.

"Yeah, I saw her earlier. She told me she'd write, and I told her I'd see her in September." She replied, feeling even more sad about that. Goodbyes felt so different now. A lot could happen in two months.

"In September?" Hermione puckered her brow. "So you aren't going to come back to Hogwarts early again in August to spend time with her?" Leslie shook her head with a bit of a smile.

"No, and I already talked to her about that," she took hold of the necklace the Granger's had given her. "I need to spend more time with you, and your parents." Hermione smiled wide and threw her arms around Leslie.

"You mean, _our_ parents."

Leslie smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, our parents." It gave her the greatest pleasure to be able to say that.

Before they knew it, the carriages began to drive up the walk and up to the front steps of Hogwarts. Leslie felt that pit of sadness in her stomach again as people began to load into the carriages. As Hermione and Ron jumped up into the carriage, Leslie and Harry stopped, for only a few seconds. They shared a glance, and they knew they were thinking the same thing. This wasn't going to be like last year, when they went their separate ways. Too much was changing, they weren't the same kids, this wasn't the same world as it was last year. Voldemort was back, the reality of that was becoming more and more clear to Leslie with every day that passed, and every day that brought them closer to the summer.

Feeling tears biting her eyes, Leslie lowered her voice to a whisper as she stared at Harry, biting her lip.

"Everything's going to be different now, isn't it?" She asked, her voice quavering slightly.

Harry didn't answer right away, but he did reach out and take her hand, the same hand that had the pink scar on her wrist. She could still see his as well, identical.

Harry looked right at Leslie and Leslie looked back, willing him to say something, but also resting in the comfort of their shared experience. Never would they have to worry about feeling alone in what they had been through. That thought alone brought Leslie great comfort.

Finally, Harry only nodded his head, in answer to Leslie's question.

"Yes, it is." He admitted. "It's going to be dangerous, but we've got something Voldemort doesn't have." Leslie puckered her brow, still holding Harry's hand tightly.

"What's that?" She asked. Harry let go of Leslie's hand then, and touched his scar. Leslie waited a few seconds before she reached out and touched her own.

"Each other." Harry said, offering Leslie the smallest hint of a smile. Leslie stared at him, comforted by his words, resting in the safety she felt in that moment as she stared into his blue eyes.

As Ron egged them to hurry up, Leslie and Harry climbed into the carriage and watched out the window as Hogwarts disappeared into the distance. Leslie felt tears biting her eyes, but she remembered what Harry said. _Each other._ No matter who tried to kill them, no matter who tried to find them, no matter who tried to hurt them, there was always that. She would always have Harry. They were in this together now, good or bad.

Leslie knew, in that moment, that no matter what danger their future held, they would take it on together.

* * *

**A/N: The End. Thanks everyone so much for reading Leslie's 4th adventure. Sorry it's taken so long to post. I'm working on a novel that I'm hoping to get published early next year, so that's taking up a lot of my time. I can tell you there will be a 5th Leslie instalment soon, entitled "Leslie Perks and the Enchanted Hollow." I'm currently working on its outline. The story will be posted soon, I hope.**


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